


Light Clad

by Ch4rl13Sm1th



Category: Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: Changeling Jim Lake Jr, Gen, Trollhunter Claire Nuñez
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 06:30:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 77,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15213227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ch4rl13Sm1th/pseuds/Ch4rl13Sm1th
Summary: As if she didn't have enough on her plate with school, a Shakespearean play, helping care for her baby brother, and whatever demands her mother's position as councilwoman placed on her, now trolls have broken into her house to tell her that she's supposed to protect their kind from man eating trolls.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a tribute to the Dreamworks cartoon TrollHunters. Referenced works include, but are not limited to, the movie Labyrinth directed by Jim Henson, the book TrollHunters by Guillermo del Toro and Daniel Kraus, the book The Adventure Begins by Richard Ashley Hamilton, and the Witcher series by Andrzej Kapowski.  
> Tunafishprincess has been a phenomenal beta reader, and a huge motivator for this story getting published.  
> This story takes place in the same AU and timeline as the AU Labyrinth but can be read independently.

Claire Nuñez.

Her thoughts of the play were interrupted at the sound of her name in a voice she didn't recognize. It was a male's voice that boomed deeply in her mind.

She looked at the driver. Her father commented occasionally as her mother in the passenger seat reviewed her plans for work and their finances. Claire looked at her brother in his rear facing car seat. He babbled at the toys that dangled from the handle.

Claire Nuñez!

She watched her father by now. He definitely didn't open his mouth. None of the passengers gave any reaction to the voice. She looked out the window past the empty sidewalk into the canal. She couldn't have heard a voice that clearly through the car doors. It was like it was in her head, but at the same time it seemed to be coming from that direction.

•••

"The Peloponnesian War was actually three wars fought between Athens and Sparta." The professor prodded at the map projected on the board with the end of his fountain pen. "The first war is known as the Archimidian War. Type that into your search engines…"

He spelled out the name and a clatter of keys kept pace with his syllables. After the teacher walked down a row, Claire opened another tab on her laptop and typed in the word "ghost". She toggled pages before he walked within view of her screen. She kept thinking of the voice that called her name that morning. She didn't recognize it, and it didn't seem like anyone heard it besides herself. She hoped so often there was more to her life than just performing well in school and wished it were more than her imagination. After all, it may have been a daydream to begin with, right? She tried to shift her attention back to Herodotus's tactics Mr. Strickler narrated. A classmate was reprimanded for daydreaming. She needed to stay focused or she would be caught, too.

•••

"What would it take for a ghost to want to haunt their descendent?" Claire, dressed in her uniform of baggy t-shirt and shorts, shuffled through the books in her backpack that hung from it's hook in her locker.

Darci sent a last text before she stowed away her phone until after gym class. "Girl, I have no idea. What would be so important for a ghost to not want to go to the afterlife?" Their speculations were punctuated with the clamour of slamming lockers and groans in anticipation of gym.

Claire Nuñez!

Darci stared at her. "What was that?"

"You heard it too!" Claire wasn't sure if she was relieved.

"Is that a guy's voice in the girls locker room?" They waited. "I might be imagining, but I think it came from your locker."

"But I just shut it!"

"Maybe you shut a ghost in there," Darci jested.

Clair opened the locker and squealed. "THAT was not in there a second ago!" A metal disk that glowed blue seemed to be ticking at her.

"What is it?"

"A watch?" Clair picked it up and it seemed to deactivate, the glow ceased, the ticking silenced. "Did the battery just die?"

"Girl, we're going to be late," Darci reasoned.

"I'm sure it'll be here after class," Claire consented, and left it in her bag before she closed the locker again.

•••

"I'm at a loss, AAARRRGGHH!" A blue troll with a head as tall as his torso to fit his six eyes held out the various volumes with four arms and scanned through the pages rapidly. "I can find no other instances in a Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore or Axle's Forbidden Almanac in which the amulet isn't immediately picked up by the next chosen warrior. However, there is no confirmation that it is necessary that said warrior must make immediate physical contact with the amulet in order to become attuned to it." Simultaneously four books thumped shut to announce the initiation of a brainstorming session. "Claire Nuñez."

"Not in Trollmarket," a gray stone creature the size of a van supplied.

"Indeed. And if my knowledge on human languages doesn't betray my, the ñ belongs to the Spanish language."

"Human?"

"Indeed." His tone communicated wariness and uncertainty. "I wish I were aware of how common that surname is. It seems oddly familiar to me and I can't surmise how that could be the case."

"Surface?"

"It would be the most sensible place to go at this point. Well, after dusk of course."

•••

Students took turns climbing the ropes in gym class. The rope at the end of the row didn't get a lot of traffic. One boy cheered on another, who strained at the task of climbing to the top to ring the bell. He struggled with getting two feet up it at all. Since the three girls had completed the fitness test the previous day, they were permitted to sit at the bleachers and socialize or work on assignments, so Claire brought her homework to get a head start, and the stack of flyers if the opportunity presented itself, which it did.

"Hey, Steve, do you like Shakespeare?" The blond was surprised by the question. "The school play. We're having trouble getting boys to audition." She tactfully managed a flyer into his hands, a skill she learned from when she helped her mother campaign. Before he could argue she pursued her friends and took a seat. He looked over his shoulder at her and let the paper fall to the floor.

Sharon pulled up a video on her phone to show Claire and Darci of her dog Arthur. The trio giggled together over the canine's shenanigans.

"Buenas noches." They looked up to find a classmate posing before them. Shannon put her hands together and smiled since she perceived the boy's intentions. Claire vaguely remembered him from one of her mother's fundraisers at the hospital. Besides that he danced with his mother then, she didn't know very much about him, least of all that he thought he knew Spanish.

"You speak Spanish?" Poorly, but his attempt was as endearing as dancing with his mother.

He stuttered. Apparently he wasn't convinced himself. Shannon coughed pointedly.

Darci had no patience for peacocking. "Come on, Claire."

They rose to depart, and he continued to look agitated, trying to come up with the right Spanish words, she assumed. She let Darci pass her and turned back to her classmate. "Do you like Shakespeare?"

"What?"

"Do you like Shakespeare? The school play. We're having trouble getting boys to audition." She pulled out a flier from her books and handed it to him. Since she perceived his anxiousness she didn't force the social pressure on him to make him say goodbye. Instead she caught up to the girls, brushing back a lock of hair behind her ear.

•••

In the locker rooms once more Claire and Darci spoke in hushed tones. "It's still here," Claire informed her friend.

"It's an inanimate object, it's not like it's going to walk away."

"Then explain how it got here in the first place, because I've never seen it before today, and I did not bring it."

"Someone's playing a prank on you."

"No one knows my locker combination except you, and you never remember it." She picked it up and held it to her ear. Silence. She held it out to examine. "You know my name. What's yours?" Silence.

Darci rolled her eyes. "See what batteries it takes first."

Claire turned it around and examined the details on it. "No way to put batteries in it. And most jewelry made with precious metal will have a number on it. This one doesn't. Maybe it was handmade?"

"Or it's cheaply made. Plated copper or something."

"It's not, you can tell. Maybe it's a tool of some sort. I'll look it up later."

•••

After she changed her baby brother's diaper, Claire attacked him with tickles. Enrique was just old enough now to make cute belly laughs that put her into a laughing fit just to hear. "Hey, chicharron, look what I found today!" She leaned over to her bag she previously deposited on the couch and withdrew the odd device from a side pocket. "It's an astrolabe! You use it to measure stars. Are you going to be a star explorer when you grow up?"

Enrique flapped his arms up and down and kicked both legs in unison repeatedly, excited by the gadget. "Yes you are! You're a little astronaut in the making! Maybe I'll teach you how to use it, someday, when I figure it out."

A clattering beneath them made her freeze. She put the gizmo on the coffee table and scooped up her brother to strap in his bouncer. "Why don't you practice your space walk, and hermana is going to see if we need an exterminator." He gurgled in response. Instinctively he kicked off the floor and bounced softly in his swing.

She took the broom that was left in the kitchen and descended to the basement. She pat her pocket to remind herself of her phone in case the source of the commotion wasn't an animal. She switched a light on and glanced around. The cans continued to roll slowly on the floor, but there was no other movement. When she made it down the stairs the light bulb shattered, which triggered a scream. She reprimanded herself. "Fortune favors the bold, Claire." She continued to hold out the broom as a combat staff and turned slowly to search for trace of vermin. Behind her a large shadow moved. Multiple eyes reflected the little bit of light in the room.

"Master Claire-"

She turned around and screamed. She swat downward at the intruder, which broke off the head of the makeshift weapon. She improvised and jabbed with the splintered wood.

"Oof! Why, I-"

A wall of stone manifested in front of her and obstructed her target. She turned and saw what she thought was a large boulder with a face. She screamed and used the broomstick to stab the face. Her intentions included repeating the motion to overwhelm the invader, but to her dismay she couldn't withdraw the creature's new toothpick from between it's jaws. She tried valiantly, and stopped after exerting a fair amount of effort.

"Just don't touch my brother, please!" If she couldn't protect her home from intruders, perhaps negotiating was all she had left. As long as her brother was safe.

The first creature cleared his throat. "If I may, Master Claire, you are the one who has been chosen." Two sets of arms belonging to the creature waved about in a grandiose manner. She stared at the terrifying creature behind her. Was she going to have to negotiate with human traffickers? She thought her strength returned and yanked again on the broomstick. "Uh, AAARRRGGHH! my good fellow, would you mind? This is a moment of some solemnity."

In his attempt to respond the good fellow released the toothpick, which caused Claire to fall back into the more eloquent speaker.

"Solembily?"

She bolted for the stairs, intending to snatch up Enrique and escape. Instead she ran into another wall of stone, which closed in around her. She determined that she imagined she was trapped in a fist as it's wielder absentmindedly deposited her back between the two creatures. He struggled with the pronunciation of the word "dignified". She tried to console herself in her deduction that these things weren't human, and that their desires were probably not the same as human male intruders might be, just like their demeanor clearly wasn't the same.

"Now where was I," the blue one continued. "Ah, yes! The amulet of Merlin challenges you to ascend to the most sacred of offices!"

"Orifices? What orifices?" The large one stumbled again with the elaborate speech. Claire's mind was now on trying to determine which of her classmates were this dedicated to cosplaying. Eli could not execute a costume this elaborate.

"Offices. It means responsibility." The one with many eyes looked back to Claire, whose shoulders sagged with the overwhelming task of deciphering what was going on all around her. "Unbeknownst to your kind, there is a secret world. A vast civilization of trolls lurking beneath your feet, hidden from view."

"Trolls," she repeated. She was not amused by this stunt.

"Yes, trolls. And it is now your charge to protect them. For you, Master Claire… are the Trollhunter."

"Trollhunter," the large one echoed.

"The honor is yours to accept. So, what say you?"

She calculated his face. Those were not machinations that triggered the blinking of his several eyes. She looked back to the green fringed monster. She approached, and rapped her knuckles on his exposed chest. It really was solid stone. She stroked the green fur of his mane. It was real moss. "Trolls," she repeated.

"Indeed." The blue one's many eyes examined her, and his four palms rubbed together expectantly.

She allowed herself to seriously consider the circumstances she found herself from the perspective of a believer. A troll protector? It certainly was better than her earlier fears. It also slowly occurred to her that it had a better ring to it than high school student. She thought back to the fairy tales her family read to her baby brother, to the books she herself grew up with. She was actually a "chosen one"? If she declined, could she hold out until elves showed up instead? No no, the stories never happened that way. And here was proof standing on either sides of her that trolls were indeed a thing. Proof that could probably eat her if she answered incorrectly.

"I don't know that my mom is going to let me."

Her words struck all six of the blue trolls eyes with shock. He cleared his throat. "Perhaps I hadn't implied the proper emphasis. This is a mantle of great secrecy from your kind."

She made a mental note that this was of course going to be like the stories where the main character was the only one honored with the knowledge of the secret world. Where the main character had a life of adventure. And honor. And more exciting things outside of school than a Shakespearean play. She raised her chin proudly. "I accept."

"She said yes!" The eloquent speaker clapped his four hands together with pleasure. "Oh but where are my manners! I am known as Blinky, and this is my good friend, AAARRRGGHH!"

"Three Rs."

"Pardon our late introduction. When the amulet had chosen you, the only indicator for your identity that we had was your name as the amulet called it out. Not witnessing you physically accept the amulet, we deduced that it was probable that it found other means by which to locate you which we ourselves could not utilize. Recalling from the times I had wandered the surface myself, I was reminded of posters promoting the Councilwoman with the surname of Nuñez and speculated that perhaps it was her relative that possessed the first name Claire, and in addressing yourself moments ago it was confirmed that it was indeed an accurate lead we pursued." He beamed proudly at the explanation of his logic.

"Wait, so the astrolabe is a magic amulet? And it talks?"

"Only as is necessary, for instance declaring the next Trollhunter."

"Trollhunter? That sounds like the opposite of what you said earlier. And don't trolls eat people?"

"Both questions are indeed related. It is specifically Gumm Gumms which eat people, and which are the trolls which you would need to protect our kind from."

"Why would your kind depend on a human to protect you from other trolls?"

"About that…."

"You're the first," AAARRRGGHH! answered.

"Indeed. There are no other instances in which a human has been chosen for the honorable mantle."

"Then why would it choose me?"

For once the scholar wasn't ready with a reply. "I don't rightly know. But no matter! We will begin your training immediately!"

"No can do, Blinky. This human has been charged with getting a head start on homework while the parents are away, and they won't be away for much longer. If I'm to protect your secret, I need to get you out of here."

"Ah, such wisdom cannot be ignored indeed. Come, AAARRRGGHH!" Claire watched the grey stoned troll pursue his smaller comrade. He struggled at the doorway. She cringed at the sound of stone on wood, and then at the sound of appliances falling from their places on the countertop in the kitchen. Blinky continued to blabber to his companion about his knowledge on human domiciles like a tourist.

She followed, but paused to check back that her brother was still in his swing. Again she winced at the sound of pressure against the door frame to the back yard.

•••

The silvery secret in her purse and memories of the interaction from the night before distracted her from the unraveling of the Archimidian War.

"So," Darci whispered as Strickler paced along the side of the class, "did that clock say your name again?"

"Mr. Lake, I don't believe that's proper school attire, do you?" Her attention was involuntarily caught by the teacher's voice. She watched their classmate nervously shake out his hair after he removed his blue baseball cap. She wondered if he had anxiety. She thought back to prep school, when she would hide behind her hair wishing to disappear. Hats and hoodies weren't allowed there either. She trained herself against the habit by clipping it back, but what did her classmate have to help him with his anxiety? Hopefully, if he decided to try out for the play, it would help him the way reading and acting had helped her. A nudge on her arm helped her turn away.

"Are you crushing on him?"

"What? No. Just trying to remember things that help with anxiety."

"You're weird. Anyway, the clock?"

"It's an astrolabe. Just an outdated tool to measure stars before they developed the sextant."

"Uh huh. A star compass that knows your name." They hushed their voices as the teacher strolled near.

•••

Darci prodded further in the locker rooms. "C'mon, Claire. You've been zoning out all day. What's going on? You didn't even remember to turn in your worksheet."

"Nothing, I'm- I what?!"

"I was waiting for you to notice, but your head is in the stars."

Claire slapped herself on the forehead. "Auditions haven't even started and already I'm bombing my grades!"

"Chill out! It's one assignment, I'm sure you can turn it in to Mr. Strickler after school. No one's taking your place as Juliet." Darci placed a reassuring hand on Claire's shoulder.

She sighed. Darci had helped her through finding comfort in her own skin. She was there for her when she first cut and dyed her hair, and supported her through her mom's reaction. She trusted Darci. "Alright, I'll tell you, but let's wait a bit." They pretended to continue to prepare for PE and waited for the locker room to empty out. After Shannon left with the expectation she'd be followed out, Darci turned to her friend.

Claire took a deep breathe. Then another."Okay. You know how in fantasy books, there's a chosen one who doesn't fit the criteria to be the guardian of a mythological race?"

"You're more of a book worm than me, but yeah, I know some movies like that. There's the Spanish one with the princess and the faun. And in the one where the secret world was in the closet, there were actually four chosen ones, and then everyone knows about the one with the wizards. What about it?"

"I'm one."

"Okay, what species?"

"Troll."

"You couldn't come up with something cooler?"

"What? I'm not making this up!"

Darci folded her arms. "I never said that."

"What, you think I dreamed it?"

"And that you want to treat the dream as a prophecy? Yeah."

Claire shook her head. "That's fine, I guess. They told me to keep it secret anyway." She headed out to the gym.

"You can still tell me, maybe it'll come true, we don't know." She followed after her, careful to be gentler with her tone.

"I'm telling you. I didn't dream it. And it's a secret, we can't talk about it around anyone. I'm trusting you."

•••

Darci reminded Claire about turning in the assignment via text immediately after school. While she headed for Mr. Strickler's office, simultaneously she flipped through her binder for the paper. She knocked politely on the door. "Mr. Strickler?"

"One moment," she heard him call. He opened the door and behind him she saw her anxious classmate in the dark blue jacket.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" She recalled that he was called out in class for violating dress code.

"Not at all." Their teacher turned back to address the boy. "Don't forget to have your mother call me so that we can meet up to discuss your bright future."

The boy nodded and smiled in greeting as he walked past Claire. She gave him as reassuring a smile as she could muster, hoping to ease his nervousness.

"Come in," Mr. Strickler offered. "Did you need something?"

"I'm sorry that I got distracted in class, I wasn't paying attention when we were supposed to turn in our assignments. Can I turn it in to you right now?"

"Of course! I appreciate your honesty, I won't be deducting for turning it in late."

"Thank you, Mr. Strickler." She gladly handed him the sheet and he tilted his head slightly.

"Is everything okay, Ms. Nuñez? I know it can be hard when your parent holds a seat in office. The pressure that comes from meeting expectations."

"I'm okay, thank you for asking. I just didn't sleep well last night."

He smiled warmly. "Well I hope you get enough rest. Auditions are this Friday, aren't they?"

"Yes, sir." She sorted her binder into her back pack. "Um, you know what an astrolabe is, right?"

"I do, though I'd say it's been quite a while since I used one, I'm a bit rusty. How come?"

She considered showing the amulet to him to see if he could show her how to operate it, but thought better about it. "Oh. I was just curious. Have a good day!"

When she turned, a blue circle glowed from the polyester pocket. His eyes grew large as his neurons fired, connecting the dots between the reference to the outdated tool and the ever evasive glow of blue magic.

•••

Again unsure if she felt dismay or relief, Claire acknowledged that Mary had caught up to them before she had the opportunity to reveal to Darci about her new responsibility. Darci bulged out her eyes, nodded her head, and shrugged in the direction of their mutual friend, clearly eager to hear about Claire's "dream" but respecting that it was a topic they likely couldn't discuss right then. Claire couldn't pay attention to Mary's newest gossip and eyed the phone that Darci took from her pocket to type a text.

"What are you hiding." Mary glared between them accusingly.

"What? We aren't hiding-"

Mary pointed a finger at Darci. "You were going to text her behind my back. I smell a story, you can't hide it from me. It smells of secrecy."

Claire's jaw dropped. She had witnessed her friend's extrasensory perception when it came to good gossip and never understood how it always seemed to work. Darci looked to Claire for permission.

"Fine. But you can't tell anyone. And I don't care if you don't believe me, but I'm not crazy." Mary waited expectantly. "I'm a chosen one, like in the movies." For a second Mary frowned, and then nodded in understanding. "She thinks I dreamed it up, but yesterday there were two trolls that broke into my house to tell me I'm what they call a Trollhunter." She waited for Mary's response.

"I'm sorry, but this story lacks a certain element. Isn't there like a magical artifact or family heirloom? A significant birthday? Maybe a tragic backstory or huge event? I know it's not the last one, your life is pretty boring, seeing as you have a nuclear family and are a popular girl."

In response Claire swung her backpack in front of herself and unzipped the outermost pocket, and held it open for her to examine.

"No way! You're a frickin' chosen one!"

"Sh!" Claire glared around for eavesdroppers as she stowed away the evidence. Her family's car pulled up then. "Not a word! You know these things are secret!"

•••

Mr. Strickler locked the door to his office. The blinds were already shut from before. He took a book off the shelf against the wall behind his chair and meticulously set it on the desk. He took the lid off his pen and inserted the warped metal prong into a keyhole installed in the wall. The bookshelf rattled and withdrew into the ceiling and floor. A secret chamber was revealed. On a table at the far side was a rotary phone, which he went to. He picked up the receiver and was immediately connected. Half heartedly he passed through verbal security protocol before diving into his objective.

"I'll be taking on a stray. I need a one bedroom, one bath, full kitchen, accessible through the main line. I'll need a key fitted for a teenage boy. Something school related, or maybe whatever movie the kids are into these days. Gun Robot? Sounds appropriate enough." He hung up the phone and exhaled through his nose as he pondered. One student a changeling. The other, the Trollhunter. And in the same class, no less. Fate would have been kinder if they didn't know each other, but fate seemed to be playing games with him. The available options for addressing either of them did not exclude death, but even as an assassin it would be detrimental to their plan for any secrets to get out, which meant it was vital to prevent any chance of poking and prodding, especially by the media. Assassination would be a last resort. He closed his eyes as the thought crossed his mind. How would the other members react? He braced himself for the slander that would come, but considered it was worth the risks. He continued to silently scheme even as he shut his skeletons behind the bookshelf again and let the light back in through the blinds.

•••

Once she was home, Claire set up her homework in the living room while her parents prepared to leave once more. "Your papa is taking me to pick up some papers. We'll get some dinner on the way home. Does burgers sound good?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Can I get root beer?"

"Hija, we already have soda at home."

"It's fine then. See you soon." She waited for the car to disappear from view. She smiled at her brother, and then nearly ran to the basement. To her disappointment there were no intruders today. They never mentioned if they would come back or when. She retrieved the amulet and went out back, staring out in the direction they went the night before. There was movement in the trees, but only as a result of the wind picking up. The gadget in her hand clicked. She examined it curiously. The arms rotated, and the illuminated symbols along the outer ring changed. They switched to Chinese characters, then to Roman symbols, then English, the arms spun each time. "For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command," she read aloud as she turned it between her fingers. The wind picked up wildly. A blue will o the wisp manifested from the center of the device and drifted slowly to her core. She compelled herself to not flee from it, and permitted it to permeate her chest.

Displacing nothing, the orb of light filled her with something empowering. She began to float, arms spread like she was buoyed in water, it's surface intangible. The light then manifested from several points across her body, and metallic plates materialized before they clinked together and encased her. She descended back to earth.

She was practically swimming in a metallic casket. "Well. That was anticlimactic," her voice echoed in the metal hollow. Insulted, the armor reduced itself. Each individual piece gently hugged her limbs and torso. She examined the asymmetrical suit, and compared her new shiny gloves and shoulder plates. "I take that back. This is so cool." She tested it's flexibility, shifted her position in it, twisted around and flexed her fingers. She stared in awe at its gentle radiance. The amulet itself was embedded into her chest, favoring her left side where her heart was. More will o the wisp escaped the confines of the gears, danced around her right arm, and met together in her palm. They elongated and more metal manifested in her hand. The increased weight caused her to bring both hands together. A sword came into existence, though it weighed more than she did. However, just as the armor had, it reduced its size to be proportionate to her. She gave it a swing. It felt too perfect. She swung again, and made up what she imagined to be elegant moves, and added an occasional spin to test its momentum. Her senses were heightened. She could taste the scent of the forest and the crisp night, electrified by the residual magic of the blade with which she sliced the air.

She breathed heavily with excitement and exertion, and held the weapon out in both hands to examine. Her face was bright in the softly illuminated blade, surrounded by the stars reflected from above. She certainly didn't feel underqualified to protect a species of friendly trolls when she had this much power tangible in her hands.

She had to show someone. "Enrique! Check this out! It's better than a space suit!" She ran back inside.

•••

The rumble of passing cars overhead droned underneath the bridge. The air cooled with the sun now below the horizon. Once he'd shuffled down the slope in his polished leather shoes, the AP history teacher strolled to the mound of k-spar in the middle of the canal. A shadow shifted behind him. He addressed it. "You failed. You let it go. Your father will be displeased." He directed his statement at the looming form that huffed at the back of his neck.

Bular snarled angrily. "Whoever holds the Amulet of Merlin, I shall destroy him, just as I've done with every single one of them."

The teacher's eyes glowed at the gratification of having more success than the monster. "Worry not, you brute. I know where to find it. I believe the amulet has found its champion."

•••

She couldn't sleep. The chevron sleep spread was a dizzying array of zig zags from her tossing and turning. She stared at the item that lay beside her pillow and spun the gears. It's slow blue pulse illuminated her face. How was she going to be able to focus on class when there was this? She gave sleep a genuine effort, but rest wouldn't find her. Around midnight, when the house was still, she snuck out her bedroom window and climbed down the post of the porch. She went back to the woods.

Surrounded by trees, she daydreamed momentarily of the forests of England in the lore surrounding King Arthur. She took a deep breath and recited the incantation. Glowing metal plates encased her body and she giggled with glee.

"It comes quite naturally to you," a disembodied voice commented. She drew the sword in the direction of the voice.

"Um, I'm not one of the trolls you should be hunting." Six eyes blinked in the dark.

"Oh, Blinky! I'm sorry." She swung the blade back where it fastened itself magnetically to her armor.

"I was hoping to see you again, though I'm grateful it wasn't in my basement. Is AAARRRGGHH!-"

"Right here." The large shadow behind her moved. "Good at hiding."

"Admiringly," she agreed.

Blinky clapped his hands together. "We should get going, while the night is still young!" She couldn't see his eyes dart around cautiously in the darkness.

Claire felt empowered being escorted by these two large creatures, donned in magical armor. Blinky explained the general importance of bridges to trolls, and every new fact prompted more questions. How many trolls were there? Did they all look different the way that Blinky and AAARRRGGHH! looked different? Were they actually made of stone or was that their hide? What did they eat? Blinky was proud to have a careful answer for everything. Claire was overjoyed to hear that they had their own language and alphabet. "I want to learn how to speak Trollish! And read and write-"

"There will be plenty opportunity to learn, even within my own personal library-"

"You have your own library?!"

"Why yes, I'm proud of the volumes I've preserved, written by my own brother, among several other popular reads. For your studies, it will be a must to read A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore, volumes one through 47."

"I get to study troll lore! Do you guys write fiction, too? Or is it all nonfiction? Well, nonfiction to you, I guess."

"She's a flower," AAARRRGGHH! observed.

They approached the edge of the dry canal. Claire longed to cling on to the majesty of the forest rather than take a step closer toward her school.

"Down this way," Blinky instructed. Both trolls curled into balls and rolled down the slope. When she'd joined them at the bottom, Blinky reached into a pouch hanging from his belt, and took out what appeared to be a dagger with a bulky glowing orange crystal. "This is a horngazel-"

"Horngazel," she repeated.

"- which acts as a key. The enchantment keeps Gumm Gumms from intruding. Draw a semicircle large enough for AAARRRGGHH! that touches the bottom on both sides-" As the words left his mouth the task was complete, and eagerly she pressed at the center. She expected the key to laser through stone. To her surprise a portal bursted forth and shattered the cement wall into a mosaic, each piece suspended in the pool of swirling light.

"Woah."

Blinky gestured to the opening. "Proceed, it's quite harmless." She closed her eyes the way she would if she were dipping into a hot tub and stepped through.

On the other side she stood at the ledge of a dark, deep cavern. She was joined by her bodyguards. The pit was suddenly illuminated by crystals the size of school buses, which glowed blue like the waters of Hawaii, and projected from the sides in a descending spiral. "Woah, a crystal staircase! This is more than I ever would have-" she leapt and bounded down several steps.

"Some caution is required! Human footsteps have never graced the steps of Trollmarket before."

She had paused for the knowledgeable tour guide to catch up when she was enchanted with the view of the bustling city and its primary light source, a massive growth of crystals glowing with life like a shard of the sun. "It's- it's beautiful."

"Welcome to Heartstone Trollmarket. It is home and hearth and sanctuary for all good trolls."

"Home," AAARRRGGHH! beamed.

"I want to live down here. Can I live here?" Blinky laughed aloud at her enthusiasm. And then she ran off again. "A moment, Master Claire!" Her pace slowed only when she found herself immersed in the local culture. She turned in slow circles to memorize the twisted characters in neon above the storefronts. Carts displayed sorted salvage. TVs broadcasted static for the trolls pleasure. Smells were not favorable to the human senses, but they were exotic and earthy and sharp. She ignored the confused grumbling of the word "human" spoken by each of the locals that beheld her.

She repeated her exclamation of wonder. "Wow."

Blinky resumed his role as tour guide. "Trolls travel from afar to find comfort and remedies. You'll find most anything you need and sometimes you'll find what you never knew you needed."

She stared up at the signs when a chatter caused her to look down. A living garden gnome was at her feet, regarding her inquisitively. "Awe, gnomes are real, too? And they don't look creepy like-" It bared its teeth at her in a hiss. "Ah! I take that back, they're worse!"

"Get away! Get out of here! Be gone!" Blinky boldly stomped at the scurrying creatures like one chased away rodents. "Gnomes are pick pockets. Vermin. Scum of the earth! We only tolerate them for their grooming services."

"Grooming?"

"They eat the parasites of the larger trolls." In demonstration, he waved to his comrade, who momentarily permitted a gnome to sift through his mossy mane before it tickled his ear. His response was to flick it away as one would swat a fly.

"What about the giant rock over there?"

"Heartstone," AAARRRGGHH! explained.

Blinky supplemented. "The life force of trollkind. The means that keeps us from crumbling to stone and the source of life and sustenance."

"Okay, that's totally the bomb."

The murmuring around the group grew beyond what they could ignore, hissing and spitting the word "human" and "fleshbag".

"Friends, there is no reason to be afraid-"

"What is this?" A large blue form with shards of quarts protruding from his back muscled his way through the gathering crowd, carrying himself as a form of authority. His next words were growled, rumbling like an earthquake leading up to a volcanic eruption. "How is it possible that a human is wearing the mantle of my father?!"

Claire deflated. She turned to face Blinky. "This is his dad's armor?!"

"Was…" Blinky mouthed the word warily. What a difficult position to be in when breaking the news to one that their father was felled, and to a city that their new guardian was from another race. He cleared his throat to begin. "This fleshbag is… well… our new Trollhunter."

The descendent roared in disbelief. The crowd churned anxiously at the announcement. "Bushigal! She can't be the Trollhunter! She's not a troll!" Claire whispered to herself the insult, adding it to her mental dictionary. She stepped forward and bowed slightly at the hips in a gesture she hoped would be respectful.

"I'm sure that your father is an honorable warrior, and I will do everything within my power to live up to his legacy." Blinky coughed softly the word "was" for her education.

The descendent beat at his puffed chest. "I am Draal, son of Kanjigar, the rightful heir! When my father fell, the amulet should have passed to me!"

"Amulet chose." AAARRRGGHH! stepped in protectively. He positioned himself so that each of his large arms were a brace on either side of the rookie warrior.

"We'll see what Vendel has to say about this," he threatened.

"Feel free to fetch him! In the meanwhile, lots of Trollhunter business to be done." Blinky ushered his companions along. Claire was careful to remain close to the two trolls after that incident. She was distracted again by the various stores, the pub and its attendants, and what she determined to be the equivalent to a tattoo parlor. A tall hallway was carved through the wall, it's dull colored stone polished to a shine. She admired her reflection as she walked. Her appearance seemed more powerful than she could have ever imagined herself, and the armor dissolved. Instinctively she caught the medallion.

"What just happened?"

"The amulet responded to your unconscious demand, Master Claire. You are at ease, are you not?"

"I am," she smiled. She'd never enjoyed being in her own skin so much.

"It senses that. You are beginning to master it."

The hallway opened up into a massive cavern, the footpath a narrow strait that dropped off into oblivion on either side. It led up to a plateau, and bordering its walls were pedestals with statues. "Woah! What is this?"

"This is The Hero's Forge!" The title boomed and echoed throughout the cavern ominously.

"And what are these?" She ran ahead again and pointed to the statues.

"Your predecessors, Master Claire. A line of heroism that reaches back to the age of Merlin."

"The wizard Merlin, right? He made the amulet?"

"Indeed!" Blinky's eyes were bright with the reference to the magic caster. Claire looked up to the lifeless statues.

"So my most recent predecessor, Kanjigar, was felled?"

Blinky rested a hand on her shoulder and another on her upper back. "Yes. Over there will be the final repose of Kanjigar the Courageous." Her eyes followed the direction he pointed out. "One day there will be a statue of you here. One day very far off, of course."

"I should have been more considerate to Draal. I didn't quite understand at the time."

Blinky turned her to face him. "Compassion, as well as cunning, are attributed most commonly to females and as valuable characteristics for noble warriors. You will make a fine Trollhunter."

"Thanks, Blinky." She'd only known them a day and they were so supportive of her.

"But not without training, of course. I sense ill times are upon us. And so, without further ado!" Blinky went to the far wall and poised a hand over a spherical shape that projected out. "Step back, please," he waved with a hand. Claire and AAARRRGGHH! obeyed. He waved with three hands. "A little further back." They obeyed. "Oh very well." He hammered in the button and the forge came alive with the sounds of grinding and the flashes of reflective metal blades. Weapons the size of buildings reached for Claire who ducked and rolled, screaming all the while. She pressed up against a wall.

"Excellent reflexes, Master Claire!"

"Thanks, it comes with the innate desire to live. Can we start with a tutorial or something less deadly?"

"BLINKOUS GALADRIGAL." Blinky jumped at the use of his full name and hammered at the button again. The blades withdrew slower than they'd appeared, drawing back to reveal a large troll of cream color like natural agate, with the widest set of horns Claire had seen since descending into Trollmarket. "Blinkous Galadrigal!"

"Is that your real name?"

Blinky rubbed his hands together. "Horrible, I know."

"I wish to meet the fleshbag supposedly chosen by the amulet. I am Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred."

She approached him with large doll eyes, hands held together delicately, her entire stance that of a fan before an idol. "I am so humbled that you've accepted me, the first human in Trollmarket. I am Clair Nuñez, daughter of Councilwoman Nuñez." She bowed slightly at the hips in courteous greeting.

"... And Trollmarket is honored to have you as well. Oh, Blinkous! The amulet has chosen such a delightful fleshbag." She beamed at her success at winning his favor. "Don't lose this one the way you lost Unkar. It would be such a shame!" Her radiance faded, and she looked back at the familiar trolls.

"... what does he mean?"

"Blinky trained Trollhunter before. Unkar the Unfortunate," AAARRRGGHH! explained.

"Why was he unfortunate?"

"First night out, torn."

"As in conflicted?"

"No. Torn limb from limb." AAARRRGGHH! demonstrated with a twist of his hands.

"As endearing as this fleshbag is, Draal is right in his scepticism. If the amulet chose true, the Soothescryer will confirm it." The old troll meandered to the very center of the arena.

Blinky's voice rang with concern. "Please! Claire hasn't even had an hour's training!"

"Mh. Hm!" The sage troll pointed very deliberately to the place in front of himself. He reminded her briefly of the way her mother summoned her for a lecture. She obeyed, intending to remain in his good graces as life insurance. The amulet became excited as the crevices of the floor illuminated. She was surprised to discover that the floor in itself was a device, which opened up to reveal a contraption that elevated until it towered over her. It resembled a totem pole with its blocky face.

"Insert your hand," Vendel instructed.

"I'm going to keep it, right?"

"That's part of the test," the troll smirked. She wondered if trolls believed in sarcasm.

She looked up at the oddity. She grabbed on to the ledge and struggled to get her feet high enough and settled with using her knees to press up from the stone surface and kneel on the ledge. In front of her face were swirling gears and gadgets that grated the air. Reluctantly she held her arm out, further and further, until it was snared in the mouth of the machine.

She screamed. The majority of her body fell off the ledge, and she dangled by her arm and flailed before it released her. She crumpled to the floor.

The cream colored troll leaned toward the device and hummed. "Inconclusive."

"All that, and it's inconclusive? That is the worst test I've ever had to take."

He shrugged. "There's never been a human Trollhunter. It needs time to render it's judgement. Let's hope you live long enough to see it."


	2. Chapter 2

“What time is it, Blinky?” Claire huffed from exertion. She'd been dodging blades and scythes and mapping out their locations throughout the forge in her mind.

“It's half past the fifth hour after midnight, I believe,” he called from the sidelines. AAARRRGGHH!!! sat perched nearby, prepared to launch himself across the floor if Claire missed a step in her training.

“Fudge knuckles! I have to get back home!”

“But your training!”

“I'll figure something out, but if my mom finds out I'm gone, she'll be on me like a hawk and then I definitely won't get the chance to train.”

“Very well then.” Blinky slammed down the button once more so the weapons of the forge were withdrawn. “We'll stop by my library on the way out.”

  
She couldn't resist getting her hands on a Trollish textbook. She almost couldn't resist glancing through all the books, and was conflicted while she waited for Blinky to write out a guide for her that included the alphabet and numbers for reference.

By the time she'd made it up the post of the porch and into her room, she could hear her mother's steps approach her bedroom door from the hall. She threw the comforter of her bed up and over herself, shoes and everything still on, to hide the evidence of her adventure. She realized her mistake when she read the clock, ten minutes after good girl Claire was supposed to be up. The door opened.

“Claire! I warned you we had to leave early today!” Claire groaned in response, careful not to stretch her limbs so far as to uncover her clothing. “Can you take your bike to school today? I can't be late.”

She nodded groggily in response. “Yeah.”

She remained in bed until the sound of the family car disappeared down the road. She considered satisfying the fatigue and going to sleep. When her eyes closed, however, the brilliance of the crystal lights and shimmering blades of the forge beckoned to her.

  
She traded out the simple leather pouch Blinky loaned her with her purse. She transferred to it the amulet, horngazel, and cheat sheet for studying Trollish.

  
She took her bike through the shortcut through the woods back to the canals and stopped at the edge of the forest. On the bridge she recognized the blue jacket of her classmate, riding his own bike in solitude alongside the street. He glanced around, taking in everything. She hid in the trees until he was out of view and descended the cement slopes into the canal. When she passed the portal again she leaned her bike up against the wall and descended once more into the glowing radiance of the fantastical facet of her new life.

•••

When she passed back through the portal, her phone blew up with notifications as the cell towers located her device. She called Mary first, as a reward for being quicker to accept her confession about becoming the Trollhunter.

“You find a magical medallion and disappear from the face of the earth without so much as a goodbye?!”

“If you know everything already, why would you still text me?”

“Tell me everything! Did you meet your love interest from another world yet?”

“Ew! They're trolls, Mary!”

“Your story sucks already. When I write it, expect me to embellish it. A lot.”

“You can't write about this, it's a secret!”

“Please. It's going to be the best selling fantasy novel. No one's going to believe it, anyway.”

  
Claire walked her bike up the slope with one hand, phone in the other. “Eli might believe it. I think he believes there's some truth in all the fantasy books he reads.”

“Then he'll be my most loyal reader. Actually, you don't even know, do you?”

“Fill me in.”

“I got distracted from your Calling yesterday, but I was going to tell you, Jimmy Jam stood up to Psycho Steve!”

“Really? Who's Jimmy?” She didn't expect anyone to have the courage to do something so gutsy.

“The boy you've been crushing on. Blue jacket, history class?”

“I'm not crushing on him, and you pay way too much attention to everyone's business.” The anxious kid? But he was still upright this morning.

“He's going to get wrecked tomorrow!” Oh.

“You think he's actually going to fight him?”

“Pffft! He doesn't stand a chance. Have you noticed how skinny his legs are?”

“I've never looked.”

“So how did you get away with ditching class? Gasp! Did you tell your mom about the trolls?”

“I told her I was taking my bike to school. She was too busy with her own schedule to care.”

“Girl, you are toast. Darci picked up your homework. We should come over and help you do it. If you get grounded, how are you going to keep up your double life?”

“Do I really need to keep it up, though?” She hopped onto her bike to ride the rest of the way to her house.

“Yeah. Or else they'll call the search parties for your butt, and when they give you up for dead, your baby brother is going to grow up without a sister and with parents too grieved to give him the love he deserves.”

“How are you so good at guilt trips?”

“I can read people like a book. It's a gift.”

•••

Mary’s suggestion that she and Darci stop by Claire's house after school under the pretense of studying was effective. With company over, Claire’s parents left the girls to themselves.

  
They made an excuse to step outside. In hushed tones Claire explained to them about how the amulet gave her magical armor and a glowing sword, as well as overwhelming descriptions of the underground city.

“I have to see the armor!”

“Not now, Mary! It's not something I can put on anytime I feel like it!”

“Ooh, what's it doing? Is it about to do it now?” Darci pointed out the device's new activity.

The amulet began to glow. The arms spun, one specifically aimed into the woods as if in gesture. “I think they're here! Hang tight, I'll let you know when to follow. I don't want to scare them off.”

“They're here?” Mary hissed her question, barely able to contain her excitement.

Claire walked into the woods. She glanced around warily, ready to recite the incantation in self defense. “Blinky? AAARRRGGHH!!!?”

She was answered with a whisper. “Master Claire!” Shadows shifted around the trees to reveal the hiding trolls. “Are you ever alone? It seems rather difficult to find an opportune time to contact you. We must resume your training.”

“You know, I got kind of used to it, but it is kind of hard to catch me alone. So, I might have recruited some help…”

“You've befriended other trolls?”

“Not yet.”

His six eyes bulged. “You've disclosed the secrecy of our existence? To other humans?”

Claire winced at the rustle of leaves. When they realized that they blew their cover, Mary tried to salvage her first impression and stepped from behind her friend. “Hi troll man!”

“I didn't give the signal!”

“But you didn't say what the signal was.”

“Master Claire, we trolls have gone through great lengths to keep our existence secret from your kind, lest there be panic.”

“That's why I recruited them. They're going to help me with my alibis so my parents don't find out, so that I don't get grounded. Or else I can't be the Trollhunter.”

  
Blinky measured her friends, which crowded timidly together, awestruck at the quantity of limbs he possessed and at the size of his comrade. “You seem to be handling this quite well,” he noted.

“We're fantasy nerds,” Darci explained.

“I have one question,” Mary waved.

“Just one?” Claire smirked.

“One at a time. How did Claire get chosen?”

“The amulet called out to her after the previous Trollhunter was felled,” the scholar explained.

“Felled?”

“Killed,” the larger troll answered.

“Turned to stone and crushed,” Blinky elaborated.

“This suddenly became very serious,” Darci pointed out.

“Killed by what,” Mary asked.

“Not what, but who. Kanjigar the Courageous, for that was his name, was felled by the ruthless troll named Bular.”

“Hold up.” Claire spoke up. “Only now are you bringing up that there's a victor? I get the feeling that I should have been watching out for him. ”

“It's been rather challenging finding you alone, but that is why it's vital we continue your training.”

She looked back at the glow of the indoor lights through the trees. Her parents were getting ready to check on her. “Meet me here at midnight, I'll try to make this work.”

She herded her friends back to her back patio. Loudly she referenced their homework, citing the years of the battles during the Athenian war. Darci corrected her sharply, having the facts fresher in her mind since she didn't skip class. Her mother called out to her and advised her friends should go home since it was still a school night.

•••

On their way to auditorium, Claire continued to rave to Darci about her late night escapades.

  
“So after you guys left, we talked about Gumm Gumms, that's what the bad trolls are called. All of them were banished to this realm called the Darklands except the son of the leader. His name is Bular, and he's the one that killed the last-" she stopped abruptly when it occurred to her that she and Darci nearly walked into a fight.

“... we won't live long enough to see a century, so why put it off for later? Or why even bother with me?”

It was the anxious boy from class. He looked frail, and tired. Claire hated bullying. Perhaps this was somehow related to her calling? She felt the urge to intervene before fists were swung. Darci reached out to her but couldn't stop her in time. “Steve, don't do this!” Claire jumped between the boys with her hands up.

“Stay out of this.” Steve shoved her back. She was surprised and lost her balance. Darci caught her. Claire didn't get the chance to look up when she heard the sound of a slam against a locker. To her surprise, it was Steve who was crumpled pitifully on the floor, looking more surprised than she at being caught off guard. Wide eyed she looked back at her classmate who addressed her.

“Are you okay?” The surprises didn't end. The frailty she thought she glimpsed earlier was completely gone. His stance was broad and proud. There was something primal in his eyes, but protective. For a split second the roles she imagined them in had switched.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she stammered and stood.

“Explain yourself, Palchuck!” Coach Lawrence approached to address the commotion. Steve's life flashed before his eyes.

“It's my fault, coach.” The eyes of everyone in the crowd grew large as saucers as the kid in the blue jacket spoke up.

“This isn't about you, Lake. Palchuck, you're disqualified from the team!”

Steve paled and whimpered. “What?”

“No, coach, it was a misunderstanding.” The skinny kid continued to bewilder the students and reached a hand out to help the bully to his feet. “I was being too rough and knocked him down. Don't know my own strength.” Shocked as the witnesses, Steve stared at the hand for a second. Eventually he accepted it, and tugged the other down as he got to his feet. He completed the act with a pat on his shoulder in feigned friendliness.

“Yeah. Caught me off guard.” Steve left the “friendly" hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Coach stared at both of them doubtfully and became bored. “This is why we don't have PDA! Hands to yourself, Palchuck!” Steve withdrew his hand quickly and shook it in repulsion.

  
The crowd dispersed, also bored now that the fight died off. Mary joined Claire and Darci on their way to the auditorium. “I was not expecting that,” she started.

Claire concurred. “He actually helped Steve. I didn't think I'd ever see the day that anyone would do something helpful for Steve, of all people.”

“Girl!” Darci nudged her again. “What about the part where he defended your honor! He head butt him in the gut! It looked like Krav Maga! He knocked him down!”

“Yeah, so much for being the chosen one, you got toppled with a single push.”

“Hey!”

“Are you blushing?!” Mary got uncomfortably close to Claire's face. “Are you embarrassed you lost, or are you crushing on Jimmy-jam?”

“Back off!” She pushed her friend away.

•••

Claire chided herself backstage for gushing. On one hand, she was pitiful. How was she going to survive a Gumm Gumm when with hardly any effort the school brute pushed her to the ground? On the other hand, there was something weird about the other boy, and though anxiety might have been one facet, which she could relate to, there was another thing she'd never seen in him before today. Not only was there something powerful about him when he looked at her, but he was the protector image she thought for the last two days she could become. Part of her might have been jealous, but she was the one with the magical amulet.

She cleared her head and let her mind travel back to Elizabethan era. She was Juliet, daughter of a patriarch. She embodied her character. This was her secret to healing from the anxiety triggered by the pressure of performance her mother placed on her: escapism. She took mental vacations from reality by diving into literature of fantastic worlds and embodying characters belonging to other eras. When she wasn't the daughter of a politician was when she truly became herself. On stage, she spoke through only tone and posture about the amazing person she discovered in herself that she became after midnight, thinking back to the amulet in her purse off stage. She let the empowerment give her the courage to speak boldly to an audience about everything she was, disguised by the words of a man long gone who created worlds with the strokes of a quill.

“Give me my Romeo. And when he shall die, take him and cut him out into little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all of the world will be in love with night.”

  
Ms. Janeth clapped knowingly. She won the part hands down. In Claire's peripheral she saw the approach of the boy in the blue jacket with his friend in the red vest.

•••

“You came,” she stated as she approached. “John, right?”

“Claire!” He practically sang her name. “It's Jim.” He scratched timidly at his head.

“What position are you trying for?”

“I can't, I'm going to be moving.”

“Oh.”

“But, Tobes here is your guy! He's great at acting!” Jim draped an arm on his friend in introduction.

“I am?”

"Sure you are! You can always manage to get away easily with acting sick!" He muttered something into Tobe’s ear, who's expression perked up.

“Oh yeah! I'm a natural."

Claire considered the costumes and roles yet unfilled, as well as the amount of lines to memorize. “You should try out for Mercutio. He's Romeo’s best friend.” And then expecting that he probably had never even read Shakespeare, offered, “I'll get you a copy of the script.” She went to Ms. Janeth to retrieve the papers.

When she returned to the two boys, she passed the one in the red vest the script and pointed toward backstage. “Break a leg!” The boy smiled, but she heard him sigh as he went. “When are you moving?” she addressed Jim.

“I'm not sure yet. Mr. Strickler says he has some connections that can help me reach my full potential or something. He wants to meet with my mom so we can discuss the details in person.”

“Wow, this sounds really serious. I mean, it has to be if you have to move." Her purse clicked, or rather the secret magical artifact in her purse switched gears. She stopped herself from punching her bag. “I gotta go. Be back soon-ish!”

Immediately she sought shelter on the other side of the double doors. They barely closed behind her when armor manifested across her body. She ran across the open pavilion to the girls locker room and into a stall. The timing had been somewhat convenient, as the few students left at school were in the auditorium, but what if a teacher had seen her? She stared at her metallic body. “Alright, what's this about?” The amulet glowed in response, and she remembered Blinky describing her unconscious demands that dismissed it before. _It responds to your emotional state_. “I was not in distress! So what if he's moving? I don't care. And that's no excuse to suit up!” The amulet continued to glow.

She exhaled, then took a deep breath. Daughter of a politician. Plain old Claire, student at high school. Future lawyer material. The amulet clicked and released itself, repulsed by her mindset. The metal dissolved in disgust. It worked.

  
She stepped out of the locker room back out to her normal high school life, and was met with her normal AP history teacher. “Ms. Nuñez, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just… girl problems.” She flashed her innocent smile.

“I see. After your absence yesterday, I was afraid you'd fallen ill…. Were you wearing that a moment before?”

“Yeah. I was just at the audition, but we don't have to get in costume this time.” She wasn't lying, under her armor she was still in her normal garments. Her attempt at gaslighting didn't seem as effective as she hoped, however.

“In any case, I hope that you're feeling better.”

“Thank you, Mr. Strickler.” She headed back to the auditorium. Her teacher glared behind her.

•••

Claire was grounded that weekend when her mother discovered from one of her teachers she'd skipped school. She was particularly obedient with whatever chores were given to her so as to appease her parents and protect her position in the play she'd just acquired. Instead of sneaking off to practice in combat, she used the cheat sheet Blinky gave her and worked to decipher the Trollish text book he'd loaned her. It was a somber reminder to more carefully conduct her double life.

She considered doing something with the phone number Toby “accidentally" gave her in place of his own when the cast for the play exchanged contacts. When she was “doing homework" Sunday night, she sent a text message to Washington D.C. and tried to shift her attention back to the papers in front of her.

Eventually her phone beeped.

 **J** : hey! Did you get the part you wanted for the play?

Innocent small talk with her classmate that moved across country to get a head start on his career. Nothing assuming about this. She responded and turned the spotlight on his friend getting the part he tried for, since he was a mutual party now. And then thought he would understand her pain.

 **C** : guess who got the part for Romeo?

 **J** : Eli?

 **C** : Steve

 **J** : can't be that bad, right?

Oh, it was bad.

 **C** : there's a kissing scene :P

 **J** : NOOO

Now he would feel her pain. It tickled her to know he liked her. Why did she want to deny that she herself was curious? There was nothing wrong with a little curiosity. His responses made her giggle.

 **C** : how about you?

 **C** : how's the new place? Get a roommate?

 **J** : nah, it's just me.

 **C** : did you get a scholarship? Maybe I can apply. ;)

From what Toby had told her, this was some fancy political school he was going to. Her mother wanted her to be a lawyer or something. It suddenly seemed like a cool idea.

 **J** : Mr. S just knows the right people. Maybe you could ask him?

 **C** : What are you studying for?

 **J** : some leadership program thing.

 **C** : Mr. S must see a lot of potential in you, that's good!

 **J** : hope I don't disappoint.

Her hand shook as she started typing out her response. Fudge knuckles! She should not be nervous about messaging a classmate!

 **C** : nonsense! You were really brave with Steve the other day. I know you have it in you.

 **J** : truthfully I wasn't thinking or I wouldn't have done it.

 **C** : I don't mean fighting him, I mean defending him to coach. That was really mature of you.

 **J** : thanks

A clicking from the amulet on her desk caught her attention. She took a deep breath to calm herself and glared at it. She was not accidentally activating her magical armor over a text.

 **C** : can you send me a picture to use for your contact?

•••

A tall creature made of raspberry rhodonite delicately set down the teacup of perfectly steeped Jasmine green tea. With a talon she picked a playlist to help her keep track of the time. The wonderful thing about living for so long was that there was time for everything, even if there wasn't. Just before she hit play, her long, slender ear twitched at the sound of a shift in the museum tile. She joked to herself about history being alive in here still.

"Nomura," a voice called out softly.

Her hooves clicked on the tile to follow the voice when an idea came to her head. Her hooves were replaced with heels just as she approached the doorway. The AP history teacher habitually adjusted his overcoat. The boy behind him rubbed at the stubs on his head as he looked around. The boy's blue eyes were wide as if he were terrified, or else adjusting to the dark. "You're here," she addressed her colleague, though with her gaze she evaluated the new kid.

"I've brought our newest member," the man declared.

This kid was going to be too easy to deal with. Already afraid, and in charge of goblins? He was going to be literally eaten alive. She hummed to herself. "So you're the Goblin King, huh? Are you scared?" She let her glowing green troll eyes flash through her human form. She was disappointed he didn't jump.

"Goblin King?" He missed the reference? That's the generation gap for you.

The teacher dismissed her comment. "Not the official title-"

"No no, janitor is a more appropriate word." She let her voice slip into a hiss, hoping that would set the child off.

"Please don't interrupt me." Strickler glared at her for her shenanigans. "Follow me, Jim. I'll introduce you to your subordinates." She humphed. She'd get a chance later. Or the goblins themselves would scare him.

She hit play on the music player and returned to her task of checking the packages. She marked the checklist she would have to burn later. Eventually Stricklander joined her once more. "Are you trying to get him eaten," he scolded.

"Are you trying to get eaten? If that whelp slips up, Bular's going to want to eat someone, and not just skin and bones." She gestured with a nod of her head to the adjacent room.

"It's all under control."

"You don't even know what it is!"

" _He_ is descended from a shapeshifter. What more is there to know?"

"Changelings are sterile, Stricklander."

"I'm fully aware."

"Changelings can't have family-"

"Rule number three." His eyes glowed with the color of bile and blood.

She was silent. She was out of line for trying to cite the rules to the leader. "What is it you want, Stricklander."

"What else do we want but to survive for as long as possible?"

She couldn't argue that.

•••

Toby sat on a wood table backstage, swinging his legs beneath as he typed away on his phone.

 **T** : you should get tacos tomorrow. Then we could share tacos together across the country. Do they have tacos over there?

 **J** : I'll make my own if I have to. Viva taco Tuesdays!

He smiled as he decided which taco truck he'd stop by after school and the goofy pictures they could send each other. Feeling accomplished for his role as wingman, he referenced their chat from before.

 **T** : have you been talking to Claire?

 **J** : I'm actually messaging her right now.

Toby pumped a fist in the air. It was a long distance relationship, or at least the beginning of one.

“Are you playing a game?” Toby looked up to see Darci observing him.

“Not this time. My friend Jimbo moved to some political school in D.C. Just trying to keep in contact.”

“Oh.” She leaned up against the table and folded her arms, anticipating her turn on stage.  
  
“.... do you play games?”

“Not much. Just some first person shooter.” He raised his eyebrows at her. “What? It comes with growing up with a dad in the police force. I used to think about how he saves the day fighting bad guys, so I like saving the universe from aliens.”

“I know which game you're talking about! Jimbo and I used to play it all the time. We made such a good team.” He sighed, his enthusiasm quickly replaced once more with loneliness.

“I never had anyone to play with. My brother is much older than me, so he thought it wouldn't be fair.” They were quiet for a moment, pondering. Toby clicked away again at his phone. “Did you hear about the game they released recently? It's a video game based off of the tabletop RPG.”

“Dude, I preordered it! What type of character do you specialize in?”

“Healer.”

“Tank. We should totally play together sometime!”

•••

Under the glare and heat of the stage light, Claire posed to Ms. Janeth’s standards. Steve halfheartedly read the lines with the packet in front of his face as he tried to follow his marks. “What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight? She doth teaches the torches to burn bright!”

“She doth teach the torches. Carry on, Romeo.” Ms. Janeth rolled her eyes and scribbled on her notepad.

“It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night like a rich jewel.” Steve knocked Claire aside to stand at center stage.

Concerned with the direction the play was headed, she consoled herself with pleasant conversation with someone a little more respectful and picked up her texted conversation when she was backstage.

 **C** : have you made any friends?

 **J** : sort of?

 **J** : there's a group that's not from around here, they don't even speak English. They're kind of simple minded, but I actually started to learn their language, so everyone jokes about me being their king because I'm the only one they'll listen to.

 **C** : That's hilarious!

This sounded more and more like an interesting school. A group of exchange students? How prestigious was this place? She wanted to keep texting, but it wasn't like she could bring up the actually interesting parts about her life, so she brought the middle ground back up.

 **C** : Toby really misses you.

 **J** : I've been texting him, too

 **C** : I know, but he won't tell you how much he misses having you around, so I'm telling you.

 **J** : and what about you?

Good question. How honest did she feel like being?

 **C** : I wish we could have gotten to know each other better before you had to go.

 **J** : me too.

Her heart fluttered.

 **C** : do you think you'll come back to Arcadia some day?

 **J** : I promised I was going to watch your play

 **C** : :)

 **J** : but what if

 **J** : I wasn't the same person I was before I left.

She hummed thoughtfully to herself. He couldn't be changing as much as she was. And besides, by the sounds of it, he was building prestige.

 **C** : we're all changing, Jim. We're growing, it's normal for us to change.

 **J** : never change, Claire. You're perfect.

•••

Toby rode alongside Claire on their way home after rehearsal. Her mother had some fancy dinner to go to and decided that it would go more smoothly for Claire to ride her bike to and from home.

Toby came across as a little clingy and awkward. “Your parents usually pick you up after school, right?”

“Yeah, but today my dad has some mom group thing he goes to, and my mom had some important meeting with a business official whose name I can't pronounce.”

“That's cool.” He sighed. “I don't like going home by myself. It's kind of creepy being out after sunset. So, it's kinda good your parents couldn't pick you up, right?”

The sideways stare Claire gave him disagreed. “Um, sorry. That was insensitive.” The heat from her eyes turned away from his direction, but the silence that followed was unbearable. “Nougat Nummy?” He pulled a candy bar from a side pocket on his backpack and offered it to her. The invite for chocolate was irresistible. She said thank you and accepted it, and tore through the wrapper with her teeth as she pedaled. She was bummed that she couldn't find an excuse to ditch her new company and head to Trollmarket, so she brainstormed excuses for the next time he asked to join her on her ride home.

Her thoughts stopped abruptly with the tires of their bikes.

“What is that?!”

The creature was more terrifying than the beast from the French fairytale Claire grew up with. Its horns were asymmetrical from the scars of war. Its eyes glowed blood red and bile yellow. It snorted and snarled, and beat at the ground with gorilla arms of stone, the newly laid asphalt crumbled at the force. “Trollhunter,” he called. “Merlin's creation. Gunmar’s bane.” Again he slammed his knuckles on the road. Shards broke apart like shrapnel.

“Is it talking to you?”

“Holy shish-kebabs.”

In his intimidation ritual, the monster slipped a knuckle into the sunlight, which hissed incompatibly. “The sun,” she pointed out.

“- won't be up for long!”

“The amulet! Surrender it and I will give you a speedy death!” The monster bellowed at them.

“You stole jewelry from the mutant bear?”

“C’mon, Toby!”

As they pedaled, Toby struggled to make sense of what he just saw. “Am I imagining? Was that a talking bear thing? A bull mutant? A mutant bull- bear?” It growled after them. “Is he after you?! What did you do to piss off a mutant animal?!”

“It's a long story I want to live to tell, now stop talking and save your air for getting out of here!”

“Flying truck!” They veered sharply as dust and metal exploded from where they once were, a tire bounced as high as a second story building. They couldn't out speed him, as was apparent by the galloping of the creature parallel to them in the shadows.

“I'll flay the meat from your bones!”

“I like my bones the way they are!” Toby hauled butt and popped a wheelie. “Turn here,” Toby instructed Claire, gesturing at Delancey street. She took his advice and searched for an escape.

“The alleyway, over here!”

“Stewart's Electronics?! I can't fit there!”

“Well, neither can he! Suck it in or something!”

He huffed. “Easy for you to say!” She heard his voice fade behind her. “I can't fit! I can't fit! I can't fit!” The sound of grating brick and snarling turned her stomach. “I can fit! I can fit! I'm fitting! Yay, diet!”

They slowed at the top of a hill when things had quieted down behind them.

“Master Claire!” A voice called out from the woods adjacent to the road.

“Bular is trying to kill us,” she blurted. Despite the time she'd had to train, she was anything but prepared to face the slayer of the most courageous Trollhunter alive.

“And you're still alive!”

“What is that?! It has, like, a million eyes!” Toby’s mouth hung agape at the appearance of the blue, four armed troll. A larger one with a green mane moved aside his bouquet of broken branches to reveal himself. Toby panicked. “We're surrounded!”

The sound of asphalt shredding interrupted the odd group. Bular announced his arrival once more with a snarl.

“Uh, Toby, I have to go.”

“You're abandoning me when there's a werebear on the loose? You wouldn't have made it without me!”

“You're right, I owe you one-"

“Master Claire! This way! We'll be safe in Heartstone Trollmarket.”

“And who are they?!”

“Toby, you've got to trust me. They're good guys, follow them!”

“Why haven't you activated your armor,” the blue one scolded.

“And where is she supposed to get armor from? Are you walking around with an interdimensional portal in your purse?”

“I was trying to keep the secret,” she directed her response to Blinky. “I didn't recruit this one!”

“That would explain the panicking, albeit it seems to add some umph to his gusto.” Claire tried to tune out the chaos around her and reached for the amulet in her purse, reciting the incantation.

“Claire, you have some explaining to do,” Toby huffed.

“If I can get it to work, I might live to explain, now stop distracting me!”

“Oh no.” As the children pedaled and the trolls ran, the monster behind them made a desperate act and pulled down a telephone pole. The wires connecting it to the adjacent ones became taut, and the other pole succumbed to the weight. The momentum carried on down the line until one dropped just in front of Toby's tire. His bike flipped forward and propelled it’s flailing rider into the air. He tumbled through the air in fear of the oncoming landing when the troll with a green mane plucked him from the air and draped Toby on his back.

The group turned into the trees and Claire continued to chant at her glowing disk in her hand. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command! Blinky, it's not working!”

“You are the first human to possess an amulet crafted for trolls. It is expected that it's behavior will be unexpected!”

Toby wailed. “What is going on?!” His mount descended the slopes of the canal. Blinky rolled alongside. Claire stopped her bike at the top to focus.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to-"

The creature of black stone roared when it located her.

She felt frail. As it's feet thundered on the ground, she recalled suddenly when she first discovered the intruders in her basement, that she was afraid she was being preyed upon for being a little girl.

Steve shoved her aside like a little girl.

The claws shredded at the soil underneath the beast as it drew closer.

She was a little girl again, hiding behind the cascades of her long hair in prep school, wishing to disappear.

His nostrils flared above his opening maw that anticipated the snap of her neck in his jaws.

The amulet clicked. She looked at the artifact in her hand. Her eyes reflected the glow of light, and that sensation of empowerment when the glowing orb absorbed itself into her chest filled her again. She may have lived her life as a little girl, but she refused to die as one.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.”

A boulder of a fist was launched into her chest, and at the last second it was impeded by a breastplate. She was airborne, like a bird launched from its nest for its first flight. The music of metal being fastened together by magic followed her through the air, the song completed as she skid along the cement, sparks at her feet.

Bular glared from the top of the slope of the canal. He slammed his fists down on the ground in intimidation and charged. The sword of Daylight summoned itself into her hands and she called out her own war cry.

“Uh oh. Rule number one,” her trainer reminded her from the sidelines.

“I'm too pissed!”

Toby pleaded. “Run, Claire!”

Too late did she realize how far she was from the portal. She could distract the Gumm Gumm from her allies, but the mission would be a failure if she didn't survive herself. In a bound, Bular planted himself between the Trollhunter and her friends. “I'll drink your blood out of a goblet made of your skull!” She dodged the limbs he attempted to drop on her. She felt like a victim of whack a mole.

“Hit him like a piñata,” Toby suggested.

She crouched and mustered her new energy, her blade cackled at the charge of magic. She tried to take the offensive and strike first. He blocked her with his blade, and the power surge caused her to skid along on her armored feet. The trolls managed to open the doorway to Trollmarket.

Blinky called out to her. “Master Claire! The portal!”

“Estoy occupada,” she retorted as she and Bular circled around each other. She spun the blade and somehow it charged with energy once more. She swung. The blade bit into the stone of the monster's arm and stopped. She yanked. “Oh boy.”

With a punch he sent her flying. Losing contact with its wielder, Daylight dissolved into vapor. Bular roared at his enemy. “You are not fit to wear the amulet! I'll tear off your armor, along with your skin!”

Claire couldn't believe her luck. He chucked her directly in the direction of the portal. She rolled over and scurried on all fours as fast as she could until she gathered herself back to her feet. “Master Claire,” Blinky beckoned as the ridges of the portal gathered together once more.

“No no no!” She slammed into the solid cement. “I was right there!” Her armor deactivated. The amulet clinked onto the ground. She lunged for it desperately and a blade sank into the cement above her head, followed by another. Amulet back in hand, she shuffled back against the cement barrier as Bular charged her until the barrier opened up once more and a claw grasped for her.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“She's alive! We're alive!” Toby danced around Claire's head as she lay on her back, breathing. She reached for her neck to confirm that her head was still attached. The adrenaline coursing through her caused her to stutter. “We almost- I was almost- he almost-" AAARRRGGHH!!! picked her up with his fingertips to help her to her feet.

“Well, out with it,” Blinky urged.

“We almost died!”

“ “Almost", a very important word. A life of almost is a life of never.”

Toby waved his arms around. “So now that we're not running for our lives, can someone tell me what's going on?”

“May I suggest that we relocate to my library? I'll be able to cite sources as Master Claire explains. Right this way,” Toby's eyes lit up as the crystal shards did. They descended the staircase as Claire broke the news to the human.

“You can't tell anyone,” she warned Toby. She kicked herself in the rear for the number of times she'd had to make that statement. “Trolls are real creatures. This one's Blinky, and this one's AAARRRGGHH!!! They're training me to be a fighter called a Trollhunter. It's my job to protect them from bad trolls, which also eat people, so I'm protecting humans, too.”

Toby's shoulders began to relax as he tried to take it all in. It helped to be walking on glowing rocks. “Like, protecting? Like a superhero? Can I be your sidekick?”

“I don't want a sidekick. It's already dangerous enough for you as it is.”

“Your call. Man, what will Jimbo think when I tell him the girl he-"

“Toby, you can't tell anyone! Not even your best friend.”

Blinky agreed. “We trolls have gone to great lengths to keep our existence secret.”

“Secret,” AAARRRGGHH!!! concurred.

Toby deflated. “I'm feeling more and more like the talking animal that has to hide the enchanted princess’s secret.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can be helpful! Blinky said you were in a troll war, right? You're going to need support.”

Blinky raised an eyebrow as he considered it until Claire spoke up. “I've got it under control-”

“Woah!” Toby stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Trollmarket. The crystals twinkled in his eyes as his experiences in studying geology flashed through his memory.

“Welcome to Heartstone Trollmarket, home and hearth and sanctuary for all good trolls,” Blinky greeted.

“I'm surprised you ever leave,” Toby observed to Claire.

They continued to Blinky’s place, yet their conversation was interrupted by Vendel, who happened to be passing by on his way back from the apothecary. “Another fleshbag in Trollmarket? What is he doing here?” He poked at Toby’s gut.

Toby ignored the gesture and observed Vendel's eyes. “Woah, agate!” He and the troll studied each other.

Claire shrugged and for lack of a better excuse, suggested “moral support?”

Toby held a hand up to speak. “I think of myself more as a tank, which works because you're like a high damage dealer.” Claire raised an eyebrow at him. “You don't game, do you? Darci would get it.” She raised both eyebrows.

“This is an infestation!” the old troll bellowed.

Claire tried to calm him. “It won't happen again, Vendel. We're just waiting out Bular. He ambushed us on the surface.”

Vendel's eyes went wide and he looked over at Blinky. “The fleshbag in your charge out lasted Unkar? I'm impressed. Surprised, but impressed.”

“With proper training,” Blinky began his speech, and immediately Vendel turned his back and carried on his own way. “Hm. Well then.”

 

•••

 

Claire quietly shut the window behind her and kicked off a shoe. She sat at the floor and began to put it back on again. There was a knock at the door and Ophelia opened it. “Just checking to make sure you're up.”

“Thanks mama.”

Ophelia began to close the door again and paused. Whatever thought was on her mind she dismissed, and she followed through with granting Claire her privacy.

Claire considered her mother's demeanor when she was distracted by her phone. It was a text from Jim wishing good morning. She smiled.

 **C** : Morning! How are things on the flip side?

 **J** : I got a job to cover room and board.

She continued to get ready for school as she carried on the conversation. Occasionally she rubbed her eyes and speculated on when she would ever catch up on sleep.

 **C** : that's great! What do you do?

 **J** : I'm a janitor. :P

She considered his pride in the modest job and giggled to herself. Maybe his anxiety was getting better from being in a new setting, getting a fresh start, like for her when she transferred from prep school.

 **C** : that's really the most important job in a hospital. Don't tell your mom I said that. ;)

 **J** : do you know how to not be amazing?

 **C** : nope.

 

•••

 

Toby stumbled through the door. He groaned when he checked the time on his phone. “Awe, great.” It was already time to get ready for school. He wished it was easier to ignore the fatigue, but since he spent the previous evening running for his life, that probably wouldn't happen. His phone chirped at an incoming text.

 **J** : Morning Tobes. What time are we doing tacos?

Oh yeah, Taco Tuesday! And then suddenly he was bursting inside. He wanted to tell Jim that his crush was a magical warrior princess of an underground kingdom that glowed from the power of a giant rock heart. _You can't tell anybody, not even your best friend._ He wilted at the memory. He didn't like keeping secrets from his friend, especially about this. It was a kind of betrayal. He tried to be content with a long distance celebration of Taco Tuesday.

 **T** : 5:30 pm here, what time will it be there?

 **J** : 8:30. I'll make it work.

 **T** : I'll call you.

 **J** : I'll tell you about my new job.

 **T** : you're working? Isn't that child labor?

 **J** : it's just cleaning, in return for room and board

Toby stood in the driveway with his bike again. He'd need to get it repaired after what the telephone pole did to it. He allowed himself to procrastinate as another text came in.

 **J** : Tobes I need a favor.

 **T** : whaddup Jimbo

 **J** : can you get my mom flowers?

 **T** : what's the occasion?

 **J** : I know she's depressed. Flowers make her feel better.

Toby looked across the street at the blue car. Even though he knew there was still someone living across the street, it started to get the feel of a haunted house. There were seldom any lights on there anymore.  Toby was making new friends and discovering new worlds, but Dr. Lake just had work and a life of solitude. He considered that if she at least had a boyfriend, it would do her good, but he wasn't that good a wingman. Flowers was a good idea, though.

 **T** : should I get a card too? What do you want me to write?

 **J** : I don't know, I'm not good at these things. Is love you mom okay?

 **T** : why not?

He looked up at the brightening sky. He really should get going. He procrastinated further. He missed his friend.

 **T** : how's school?

 **J** : history teacher is exactly the same. Coach is almost the same.

 **T** : anyone like Sr Uhl?

 **J** : learning languages is more self driven here.

 

•••

 

During his lunch period, the professor seized the opportunity to stop by the museum. Seldom did he come by when it wasn't stagnant with antiquity and a lack of life. It was easy to single out the curator with the raven black hair in the purple button up dress. She excused herself to her seemingly older colleague and directed the instructor on a tour-for-one that stopped as soon as they found an exhibit vacant of any life.

“To what do I owe this honor,” she exhaled. She would likely see Mr. Strickler that evening, but suspected his new charge had an impact on whatever he had come to discuss. Always working, she examined the displays that weren't behind glass and checked to make sure they were perfectly level. They were already- she was the one who installed them.

“I'm going to need you to acquire a Looking Glass.”

She paused momentarily from her task. “What era are we talking? I've got a real nice one on display from the Victorian era-"

“Not a mirror.”

She turned around and waved a hand coyly. “Oh, of course not. A looking glass, I'm sure we could get the sister museum to loan us the one that belonged to the pirate-"

“Not a spyglass. At least, not of that sort.”

Her expression grew dark. “You don't possibly think I have one of those lying around, do you?”

“I'm certain of as much. And I want it in the box.”

“Why would you give something so powerful to the freak?”

“He doesn't have a form to come to the surface-"

“Because he's not a changeling. When are you going to see this.”

Strickler exhaled heavily. It was exhausting to be constantly challenged, but this was the cost in having singular insight. “He is, and he's useful. He'll be more so useful once he gets eyes.”

She grumbled before relinquishing her prize. “Fine. I'm sure I can get my hands on one.”

“And I'm sure that you already do.”

 

•••

 

“YOU TOLD TOBY?!” Darci was indignant.

“Wait, you hesitate to tell me, but without us you go and tell Toby? Where is the trust?” For the moment Mary had her phone down, shaking her head in dismay at Claire. Claire had waited until after school and before rehearsal to have a chance to catch both her friends up to speed in person and together.

“Girls, it's not like that at all! A troll tried to eat me, Toby bought us time, and I had no other choice but to suit up in front of him and let him hide out at Trollmarket.”

“Wait, is this that troll that six eyes warned us about? That troll? The troll that killed the last troll fighter?”

“Bular the heir? Yeah, that troll.”

“Fine, Toby won cool points with me.”

“Just like that, Darci?”

“Claire could have died! So yeah, like that, but she's going to make it up to us.”

Claire waited expectantly for Darci’s suggestion. Darci wouldn't satisfy, letting the suspense build. “... what is it?”

Darci and Mary exchanged glances and leaned against each other before they bellowed, “take us to Trollmarket!”

“What, but-"

“C’mon, C-bomb!”

Claire recalled Vendel's response to Toby coming. Now to double that? “You're going to get me in so much trouble.”

 

•••

 

Toby inhaled deeply at the wondrous smells of quickly prepared, savory, crispy tacos with that hint of paper sack. He made himself as comfortable as one could as he took a seat on the curb. “Hey, let's video chat, you can show me what your room looks like and stuff.”

His friend's voice answered from the phone. “I can't. My camera's broken.”

“The selfie one or the good one?”

“Both? I just can't do video or pictures anymore.”

“That sucks. So, are the people in D.C. all prickly?”

“Pretty much. Everyone else acts like crazy college students. The things I find in their mess- you wouldn't believe it! They become kleptos when they're on a frenzy.”

Toby took a bite and tried not to choke on the taco shell while he talked. “Man, and you have to clean up after them?”

“Yup.”

“That sucks. Any cute girls at least?”

“Sorry to disappoint. Apparently everyone here is much older than me, anyway.”

“Seriously? Did they like, put you a few grades ahead or something?”

“...or something?” Toby sighed. He missed his friend. “You okay, Tobes?”

“I don't know, man. I'm afraid that while your gone, you'll get a cool job with cool people like some officer in the FBI and we won't be friends anymore. You'll make new friends, and they'll all be weird, and you'll start to get weird like them, like a soggy taco shell that's been sitting for too long or something.”

“It’s not like that at all. I'm… keeping it crispy. You're my best friend, nothing can change that. It's actually really lonely over here.” Toby wiped his hand on a napkin while he held his phone with the other. He thought about the friends he'd made in the last few days, including the nonhuman ones. He wanted to tell Jim everything. Maybe he was the soggy taco shell, after all. “How's the play coming along? I'm hoping that maybe I can come over to watch it.”

Toby bunched the napkin and taco wrapper into his paper sack. “It's okay. Claire's, like, the only one who knows what she's doing. She gives good advice, though. Darci plays Tybalt, so there’s a scene where she kills me.” There was laughter at the other end. He kept going. “Hey, so you know that game where you have to save the universe from aliens? Darci plays it!”

“Really?”

“And she specializes in healers!”

“Dude, we should get her on our team. Then all we'd be missing is a heavy damage dealer.”

Why did it keep coming back to Claire? “She doesn't game.”

“Who?”

“Oh, um, nothing.”

“So, what else do you and Darci talk about?”

“She has an older brother in the military. Her dad's a detective. There's a game coming out that I think I'll invite her over to play or something.”

Laughter came from the phone. “Man, Tobes. I'm not even gone a week and it's like you forgot how to flirt. Where's the Tobes that has girls all figured out?  It sounds like she's your type. Quit playing wingman and ask her out.”

Toby gasped. “You're right!”

“It was good talking to you. I have to go to bed soon. Classes tomorrow and stuff…”

“Oh, right, time zones. Night Jimbo.”

He sighed at his phone. He hated keeping secrets. In every other respect he hoped to maintain his friend's trust. He considered what kind of flowers to get for Dr. Lake. Yellow ones would be cheerful. Maybe he could get flowers for Darci, too.

 

•••

 

"Marco! Made your favorite."

"Thanks, Ms. Nomura." She offered him a cup of chamomile tea from her fine China she kept at the museum. He should have never told her his favorite. Chamomile was so soothing, and somehow she always prepared it just right. It was perfectly warm and aromatic, and as still and quiet as the museum was at night, it always seemed to put him to sleep. He was going to get fired at this rate. However he continued to be moved by her consideration, and she was one of those people he couldn't help but want to please. "I don't know how you do it, but with just a cup of tea you can make someone feel so at ease."

"It's not just simple tea. It's special." It was enchanting the way she was enraptured by things like good tea and old pottery. It reminded Marco of family friends that would rave about the best farm to get the perfect butter, or about how dandelion honey was the best honey. He wondered now if a honey with special roots might have been the secret ingredient to her concoction.

He took a seat to begin his shift, and watched the screens that were installed across the top of the desk. The curator returning to her car was the only movement across the monitors. He leaned lazily against his elbows as he stared at a bush rustling in the breeze in the screen in front of him. How nice a gentle breeze would have been right now, in the stagnant stillness. The clock slowed to a crawl as he awaited for time to parole the property.

He crumpled over the surface of the desk instead.

 

•••

 

“When you faced Bular, where you faltered was that you did not exercise rule number one. Always be afraid.”

“I know. I j- woah!” Claire ducked aside at the last second as a stone flew past her head.

“Be afraid,” Darci asked AAARRRGGHH!!! He nodded.

“Indeed,” Blinky elaborated. “Fear is good. Keeps us alert. Keeps us on guard. Makes us vigilant.” To demonstrate, he chucked several stones at Claire, who ducked and dodged the stones she didn't swat away with her blade. Darci involuntarily cringed at the method of training. Mary waved her phone in the air to impersonate a cell tower. “Rule number two?” Blinky was eager to use Claire to teach her friends about troll values.

“Always finish the fight.”

“What do you mean by finish? Like both parties have to agree when it's over?” Darci looked back up to the big troll. Mary grunted as she waved her phone in the air to get a signal.

“Kill,” he answered.

“Indeed,” Blinky continued. “The Trollhunter must always vanquish his, er, her, opponent through death.”

“Yeah, I got a problem with that. Maybe it's because I've grown up surrounded by politics, but I know there's some fights that are better talked through.”

“Perhaps with humans, but ours is an unforgiving world. Now rule number three.”

She smirked at this one. “When in doubt, always kick them in the gronk-nuks.”

Darci puzzled over the final rule. “The what?”

Claire clarified. “Kick ‘em in the nards. The huevos. The-"

“But what if it's a lady troll?”

Blinky rubbed a finger to his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it would certainly catch her off guard.”

The troll Claire met on her first visit to Trollmarket who introduced himself as Draal stepped into the forge. He spread his arms in a friendly manner as he spoke, which was quite contrary to the way he acted prior. At least before he was honest. “So the Trollhunter has been training. I thought the great Trollhunter might accept my services as a sparring partner. Part of your training regiment, isn't it?” With the last two words he looked pointedly at Blinky.

“In due time, perhaps,” the smaller troll attempted to deter.

“Why wait?” Claire recognized Vendel's voice boom from the observation deck. “I am eager to see your charge demonstrate her mettle."

Claire gulped. She hadn't figured out yet if the old troll had a sadistic curiosity about how the first human Trollhunter would handle her position, or if this was punishment for permitting yet more fleshbags into Trollmarket. “Let them spar,” Vendel chuckled.

“No harm in it,” Draal assured, but not in a way that convinced Claire. He strode confidently to the opposite side of the ring.

“Blinky, a word,” she muttered at her mentor. “I'm not exactly sure what to do.”

“Hit him as hard as you can,” he stated the obvious.

“I'm not a fighter, I'm more like a debater. I talk my way through fights-"

“You were rather eager to sharpen your blade with Bular's.”

“Well, yeah, he made me mad.”

“Ah, but you must remember to exercise rule number one.”

“I'm definitely feeling rule number one.”

“Excellent! Trust yourself. The fight is within you, Master Claire.” He turned her to her opponent by the shoulders. She stuttered after him, but it appeared that combat had already been initiated.

“Begin,” Vendel instructed.

Much in a similar manner to Bular, Draal slammed his fists into the ground and roared to intimidate her. She couldn't help but have a sudden recollection from history class about how the Spartans would intimidate their enemies with a great uproar to demonstrate their strength. The Persian Immortals, on the other hand, used unnerving silence to intimidate. They also used wicker shields, which did not hold up well to the Spartan’s iron-headed dory.

Like the Gumm Gumm, he charged at her. Unlike the Gumm Gumm, however, he curled into a ball and rolled, the shards of quarts that projected from his back now blades due to his speed. She rolled clumsily out of his way. His momentum drove him up the wall and she realized that the maneuver was planned. With gravity on his side, he could crush her, magic armor or not. She ran out of his path of trajectory, but not so fast that she avoided the wave that erupted when he landed. She blinked away the dust and tried to stay low, but she couldn't help but cough, which gave away her position in the dust cloud. His crown of horns found her and launched her out of the cloud of settling dust.

When she stopped rolling, she propped herself up with her sword. How did she get it to charge with energy when she faced Bular? She didn't even have the energy to think clearly, and wasn't sure how she ended up launched again through the air. Her face grated across the stone floor once more and she tried to shake away the dizziness. Before she figured out which way was down, however, the ground was gone from beneath her, and an abyss loomed below her dangling feet. She yelped and clutched at the stony paw that squeezed her chest.

He leaned toward her as he spoke, so her body still flailed over the drop but he was near enough she could smell his muddy breath. “I've waited my entire life to inherit the amulet. I can wait until you fall in battle.” He gave her one more squeeze to remind her that she was not living stone like him and dropped her inches from the ledge. “I suspect I won't have to wait very long.”

 

•••

 

“C- bomb!”

“Claire!”

She ignored their pleas and wiped her eyes as she went. She was too soft. Could her tears not wait until she was away from these cold hearted, stone beings?

“I understand that you're upset, Master Claire, but you've not had a week's training. There's no shame in what just transpired.”

“Okay, maybe you weren't watching.” She stopped a few steps ahead of them on the crystal staircase. “Shame is the only thing that transpired. Shame, and realization. I can't be the Trollhunter. I don't know if Draal should be, but I know that no human can survive this job. I can't be the warrior you need me to be. I'm not strong enough, and no amount of training is going to change that.” She took out the amulet from her pocket and tossed it. Darci was quick to pick it up and check for damage.

“Master Claire, whatever doubts you may have about the amulet’s choice, it is now bonded to you.” Darci gasped as the amulet proved the accuracy of the troll’s words. Of it's own accord, it propelled itself from Darci's hand to Claire, who turned just in time to grasp it in midair. “This is a mantle you cannot refuse,” Blinky finished.

Her expression went dark, and she held the amulet out like a wad of paper waste. “Watch me.” She dropped it, and it clinked down the steps where Mary picked it up. She cradled it more delicately than her own phone. She and Darci looked imploring at Blinky as though begging for a remedy.

 

•••

 

Claire greeted her parents warmly when she got home. Her mother barely glanced up from her papers. Her father barely heard her over the sizzling in the kitchen. She turned to her brother in his bouncer.

She kneeled down and kissed his soft cheeks. Enrique squealed with delight. She smiled at him, but she blinked away tears. Though he was the only family member in on her secret, when he was older he would have no recollection of the few days Claire spent as the Trollhunter. This was probably the worst self discovery journey she'd ever had, and just like before, only Darci and Mary would be able to support her.

She wiped her eyes. She had so much time she could dedicate to rehearsal now. She went to her room to practice her lines. She plopped onto bed with the script and turned the page.

A blue glow mocked her.

She took the medallion from on top of the paper, opened the window, and threw it. She ignored where it may land. The trolls could retrieve the darned thing at nightfall themselves, it would serve them right for stashing it in her bag, however they managed that. She sat back in bed and turned the page.

The blue glow mocked her.

She groaned, and suddenly recalled that when she first laid eyes on it, it was in her locker after she shut it.

She gave up studying and went downstairs to spend time with her family. After dinner she prepared a snack of guacamole and chips to enjoy while she watched a movie with her parents. During an engrossing action scene, her parents didn't hear the click of metal or yelp over the gunshots or wailing in the movie when a tortilla chip turned out to be metal.

She marched outside with a slingshot, a gift from her tío. “Adios,” she discharged the amulet. She aimed high for the sky and fired away. It twinkled in it's rightful place among the stars. She exhaled, and turned to head back in.

“Ouch!” She rubbed at the welt that began to develop on the back of her head and turned around. She heard the hum and glared down at the blue glow that mocked her.

 

•••

 

“Deny, refuse, but he can't deny it. But Romeo can't not be a Montague, and Juliet-"

“And I'll no longer be a Capulet,” she sighed.

“Deny my dad. Got it,” Steve confirmed. There was something dark about the way he blinked at his script.

“He jests at scars that never felt a bruise-"

“A wound,” Ms. Janeth corrected. “Romeo, are you reading the script? It's right there in black and white. Act two, scene two, line 32.”

“I know how to read,” he retorted defensively.

“You okay?” Claire tilted her head inquisitively.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

“You’re going to need to be a bit more convincing if you're going to play Romeo.”

He blinked. His voice was softer when he answered. “I'm fine. Really. Just… a lot going on in my head.”

Ms. Janeth waved around her pen to conduct the actors back on task. “Alright, alright. Once more.”

 

•••

 

“You think I'm not going to be the best Romeo? Just because I was forced to do the play to stay on the team?”

“No Steve, I just thought maybe it's a lot of lines and you'd want something easier, we could trade roles and-"

“Are you calling me stupid?”

Claire didn't hear the verbal exchange that took place before she and Darci stepped out of the auditorium. What she saw was Eli cowered against a locker, and Steve towered over him. He wouldn't let Eli talk his way out of a beating.

Instinctively Eli ducked as Steve's fist flew into the locker, and possibly out of habit he rolled aside before the toe of a shoe could find his gut. “Steve!” Claire tried to call him out, but he was engrossed in the task of catching the rabbit that darted just out of reach.

She didn't think. She took two quick steps that put herself between Eli and Steve. The bully’s fist consequently followed it's path that now would end at her face, except that she twisted just enough to not only spare her skin, but grasp his wrist. The rest of her body turned to direct his momentum over her shoulder.

Momentarily he was airborne. Eli slammed himself against the locker and looked over his shoulder in time to see a tooth continue beyond the borders of the bully’s mouth. Claire huffed. “You owe him an apology!”

There was clapping. There were cheers. She looked around, surprised. Darci disregarded Steve's limp body and trampled his arm to dash over and support her friend. “You did it!”

Mary ran up to whisper into her ear. “You didn't even have to kick him in the gronk-nuks!” Claire looked around again, dazed. She overpowered Steve? But she didn't even hit him…

 

•••

 

“It was an epic pummeling! I was going to kill her, but I just couldn't make my mind up as to how.” Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! brooded from their usual table. The bar was particularly rowdy, what with the embellished retelling of Draal’s sparring session with the human. “Trollhunter? Troll hunted is more like it.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! slurped angrily from a straw as he glared. Blinky’s four shoulders were hunched in frustration. “If only Master Claire had landed a single hit.”

“Single hit.”

“And she would have been changed forever!”

Draal glanced over his shoulder at the two trolls before he continued retelling his version of history. “Over and over and over. It was incredible! All I want is the chance to wail on that fleshbag again.”

“Wish granted, loudmouth.” He choked on his gulg at the sound of the opponent's voice behind him. “When's our next sparring session?” Claire had her arms akimbo like a superhero. Darci and Mary stood on either side with arms crossed.

“You wish to have a rematch?” He smirked.

“Whatever you want to call it, I'll be there.”

“We all will,” Mary challenged.

Glug spilled from AAARRRGGHH!!!’s mouth. Blinky put a voice to his thoughts. “Oh dear she agreed to a rematch.”


	4. Chapter 4

“... we stowed away on a ship called the Mayflower, just a handful of us and some gnomes we brought along for companionship and nourishment. Finally, we arrived in a strange and exotic realm-"

“New Jersey,” AAARRRGGHH!!! interjected. 

“-we kept walking. Eventually, we came across a new Heartstone, and we realized we had found a new home here under Arcadia.”

Darci's and Mary's eyes were wide as saucers to discover the proximity of magic to the mundane world they grew up in. Claire was snoring against AAARRRGGHH!!!

The girls giggled as Blinky approached with the open book. He held it out toward Claire and slammed it shut. 

" _Sixteen twenty!_ ” She yelled the year in Trollish. 

“Master Claire,” Blinky began to lecture. 

“I'm sorry.” She wiped sleep from her eyes. “I've read this part before, and I still need to study for my Spanish exam later this week. And algebra. And history, and the play…”

“Don't you already know Spanish,” Mary accused, her tone dripped with jealousy.

“I'm a third generation Mexican immigrant. Spanish is not my first language. And they teach “Spain" Spanish in school. It's not the same. Besides, I'm supposed to be fighting Draal later, so why aren't we training?”

Blinky held the book casually to his chest as he explained. “Before one fights, one must understand why one fights. For these precious early steps will decide whether a young Trollhunter will become Deya the deliverer,” he gestured to the female troll with her sword raised in a pose of valor, “or Unkar the Unfortunate.” He ended his speech with a gesture to the cowering statue. Claire sighed. A fleshbag wouldn't make a good statue at all. Their conversation was interrupted by the wailing of a troll. Her skirt of skulls and rags bustled as she waddled toward them in haste.

“Oh no,” Blinky addressed her first. “Is it the Heartstone?”

“No, no,” she huffed. She rest her hands on her knees when she reached them. 

“Stalkling,” AAARRRGGHH!!! guessed. 

“No-"

“Is Bular in Trollmarket,” Claire feared. 

Irritated, the female wailed. “No! Gnome! Rogue gnome!” The trill in her voice made each syllable ring as the forge amplified her outcry. 

 

•••

 

“First I couldn't find my monocle, then my collection of bed coils. Now something disappears every minute!” With the air of defeat Bagdwella, the shopkeeper, deflated onto the stool, except that in a whip of air and a giggle the stool was gone and she dropped onto the floor. 

“Ah, yes,” Blinky observed. He held out a hand to help her to her feet. “Gnome.”

She swatted away the hand, irritated by the human custom and peeved about her circumstances. “Oh, dirty little pests.” She helped herself to her feet and pulled out a sheet from a bowl on a countertop, a skeleton of another vermin attached to it. “Up until last week, the glue traps were working fine.” Another sound of air rushed past and the pitch of laughter and even the corpse and trap were gone. “Fix it, Trollhunter.” She batted her eyes as she implored Claire. 

Claire turned to Blinky. “Me? I'm an exterminator, too?”

“The Trollhunter answers every call. And what better a call for you to train than a pint sized quarry?”

There was a strum of musical notes. The gnome used a gardening fork and string to make a proportionate instrument. He strummed away on it and trilled his voice in song. 

“He's better at guitar than you,” Darci pointed out to Mary.

“Is not! But he is still pretty good-"

“It's a distraction! Hold tight to your valuables,” Blinky warned. 

Claire folded an arm over her torso and with the other tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she pondered. “Maybe we can lay out poison for it?”

Blinky was appalled. “Master Claire, poisoning is highly frowned upon by trolls. It's right there in A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore.”

The girls squealed at the finish of the song and Blinky instinctively held down the flaps on his pouches with his lower hands. Everyone but the Trollhunter and her trainer scurried after the pest this way and that. “Which volume?”

“The first.”

“Oh, I guess I haven't gotten to that part yet.”

Claire felt a shift in her pocket and reached back. Her heart sank with dread. “Oh no- the amulet!” The gnome had the audacity to pause with the treasure in his hands to mock her with his laughter before he scurried again. She bolted after the giggling pest. She leapt forward and skid on her belly, but wasn't quick enough. It wiggled under a wardrobe and disappeared. AAARRRGGHH!!! helpfully pushed aside the furniture with a single finger, and everyone stared at the hole in the wall and the absence of any other trace of the pest. 

“It would appear that the plot quite literally deepens,” Blinky jested. 

“Smoke him out,” Darci suggested. 

Claire held a hand out toward the hole. “You can't do that, we're in a cave system. You'll smoke out all of Trollmarket. Why isn't it coming back?” She kept high-fiving the air to summon the amulet. 

“Dolefully, that rule only applies if you've rejected it-"

“Oh, right, I vaguely remember reading that part.” She smacked her palm to her forehead as though attempting to wake her past-self up.

“Some Trollhunter you are,” Bagdwella scoffed. “Claire the baby-handed.”

“Master Claire, press on,” Blinky encouraged. “This is not the moniker you want.”

“You got a bottle that says drink me? It’s not like I can fit into there.” 

“Hm. Currently.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! drooped warily. “Bad idea.”

“No Trollhunter has ever lost their amulet,” Blinky argued defensively. “We'll need time to procure the Furgolator.”

“The Furgolator?” Claire raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh, don't you worry about anything, Master Claire. Tend to your studies. We'll watch over the hole. Tomorrow, you'll return refreshed to deal with this little problem.”

 

•••

 

Toby cringed. With every squeak of a sneeze from the back of the room, he winced. Darci was allergic to flowers. Mary struggled as she read from her notebook held up to her face from the front of the classroom. The chalk squeaked slowly on the board. There was a terrible tension as ears listened for the clues between the speaker's nervous dictation and the squeak of the chalk. Students rated their own presentations against the reaction Mary's would elicit, and the pressure was palpable. 

“... and poor Maria had a pedoso heart-"

The chalk snapped. The teachers authoritative voice boomed. “What kind of heart did Maria have, Mary Wang?” Darci betrayed her friend with a sneeze that punctuated the teacher's question. The class remained silent otherwise. 

“Uh, a heavy heart, pe-do-so, or was it-"

Señor Uhl loomed over her shoulder then. “I would hope Maria didn't have a pedoso heart, because that would mean gassy. Did Maria have a gassy heart, Miss Wang?”

“Of course not, Señor Uhl,” she blubbered.

“Uh-buh-bum! You were trying to say “pesado", a heavy heart. And it is with a heavy heart, Miss Wang, that you have not shown the slightest comprehension of the basic Spanish. If you cannot even complete the exam, then I have no choice but to fail you.” He held out a box of tissues for her. She took one and ran out of the room wailing. Conveniently, the bell rang. Señor Uhl voiced Toby's fear. “I look forward to your presentation tomorrow, Mr. Domzalski.”

“Uh, sure thing, Señor Uhl.” The students left the tense atmosphere that would hang so thick the next class would feel it. 

Toby trotted after Darci. “Hey! It sounds like the sneezing is slowing dow-" she cringed her face and squeaked. “I'm so sorry, I didn't know…”

“There's a lot you don't know about me, Toby.” She sniffled. “You don't need flowers to ask me out.”

“It's just, you yourself are such a rare flower and- wait, what?” His arms dropped limply to his sides from the utter surprise. 

“Maybe we can get a milkshake. Some time when I'm not helping with Trollhunter stuff.”

 

•••

 

Marco was relieved not to have been offered tea by miss Nomura today. He was already rather groggy. He patrolled the quiet hallways, grateful to keep himself awake with some movement. Outside the halo of his flashlight, the museum took on a blue monochrome accentuated by the glow of the moonlight that came in slivers through the windows on the far side of the building. In this setting everything seemed like shifting shadows in his peripheral, so he tried to ignore the unsettling movement. However, a sound made him gasp and shine the light at the statue of the Chinese guardian lion. He considered that he was imagining sounds now. He continued down the hall and blinked hard to force himself alert. 

The horns on the lion shifted to the side, and it's moving shadow watched the human warily with glowing eyes. It then snuck along the wall toward the door.

Strickler was already there. He reviewed the inventory for the wooden crates, marking off a checklist. Bular looked around, appalled, and snarled with incredulity. “We build it here? Right under their noses? Are you a fool?”

Strickler turned about casually as he made another mark. “Haven't you heard that the best hiding place is in plain sight-” stone claws found their way around the changeling's throat. The clipboard clattered on the floor as he instinctively brought his fingers to his neck. 

Bular glared at him. “Don't patronize me, impure.” The last word was growled with condescension. 

Strickler struggled to speak with his throat constricted. “We want the same thing, Bular. I know you don't like waiting, but it's taken some time for the changelings to acquire the remaining pieces.” Bular threw him aside, eager as a child to tear into the presents stacked around them from when they were unloaded the night before. Strickler flashed his eyes angrily as he adjusted his collar. 

A box was torn open and Bular examined the stone in his claws, a brick to the doorway that would free the true ruler. “My father has waited centuries. The age of Gunmar is at hand.”

 

•••

 

“Remember when I told you that all TrollHunters must start small?” Blinky side stepped to reveal a large, golden contraption, designed to resemble a troll face with vertical pipes of hair. 

“Still bad idea,” AAARRRGGHH!!! warned. 

“So, this is supposed to help catch the gnome, how?”

The group watched warily as the face of it divided into three panels that drew back to open in a hiss of steam. “If the gnome won't come out, our Trollhunter must go in!”

Claire took a step into the contraption and looked around at the shiny surfaces. “Do you have the manual for this thing?”

Blinky already shut the doors to the Furgolator. “No need! We often use the Furgolator to compress minerals.”

Darci took up her role as voice of reason once more. “You've done this a few times on flesh and bone, right?”

“And now for the anthracite-"

“Right, Blinky?” Claire was concerned with his lack of an answer. 

“Not to worry, Master Claire, we all work best under pressure.”

“This better not kill me, Blinky.”

The troll placed the coal and closed the compartment. The machine hummed loudly in response.  And then louder. It rattled. She coughed. “Is there supposed to be this much smoke?”

“C-bomb!” Darci lunged at the door and tried to pry it open. “Mary, help!”

“Is it gonna blow?” Mary scrunched her face and turned her head away as she helped yank at the door. Blinky joined in the efforts and when the door wouldn't budge, he called to AAARRRGGHH!!! for his assistance.  Finally smoke dispersed from the gadget, it's panels wide open.

Claire coughed as she waved away the smoke. “I'm never doing that ag- agh!” She looked straight up at the trolls and humans that towered over her. 

“Awe, look how tiny she is!” Darci leaned down to look at the miniature Claire. 

Mary's eyes lit up with wardrobe ideas. “I want to make her a dress of ribbons and put her on a flower!”

“We could put butterfly wings on her!”

“Girls, this is temporary! Let's get the gnome and we can play dress up later.”

 

•••

 

Claire was deposited at the lip of the hole in Bagdwella’s store. “I don't know how to feel about this. I couldn't catch him when I was bigger, but now-"

“Here.” Mary took out her emergency sewing kit and held out a needle. It's larger size indicated that it was for leather.

Claire gripped it at the eye and gave it a swing. “This feels ridiculous. And reminds me of a lot of stories from my childhood.”

“Which no one else has read and aren't going to get.”

Darci handed Claire one of her mother's campaign buttons. “Look, your mom's still protecting you and doesn't even know it."

“Ha, ha.”

“Onward, Master Claire, and fetch your destiny!” She took her cue and entered the tunnel. “Oh, and one more thing, and this is of dire importance: do not touch it's hat.”

“Of course. It's right there in A Brief Recapitulation.”

“You remembered!”

“When you brought it up, yeah.” Claire smiled to herself as she recalled the story of the mouse that went down in the dungeon to rescue the radiant princess from the greedy rat, armed with a sewing needle. Perhaps now she could finally be a hero in this small quest. Her smile faded quickly when she nearly walked into a doll head dangling in the pathway. “This dude is so creepy,” she muttered to herself. 

At the other end of the tunnel, she pressed up against the wall and peered around the corner. The gnome was engaged in a one sided conversation with his deceased comrade at a table setting that used the amulet as a table top. He attempted to share the Nougat Nummy that had been previously used as bait, but his skeletal friend lost his head over it- which rolled over in Claire's direction. The live one grumbled angrily at her intrusion. “It's okay! I like chocolate, too. You seem kinda lonely, do you want some compa-”

There was a clatter and squeals audible from where the trolls and humans listened for progress, all too high pitched for it to be clear whether the voices belonged to the girl or the gnome. “That doesn't sound favorable,” Blinky observed. Darci put a hand over her eyes at the sound of shattering. 

Claire put to good use the training she'd picked up from the time her parents enrolled her in fencing. The gnome had a hold of the campaign button and blocked her strikes.  “Blinky. Says. I have to. Kill you,” she said between strokes. “I'm sure. We can. Talk-” The gnome turned the button like a frisbee and chucked it with speed enough for it to slice like a saw. She rolled to the side to avoid it. The gnome dashed in a second to a higher landing and made his battle cry as he descended on her like a wrestler. She rolled aside, and then dropped the needle to grapple him. He squirmed. He got loose. So did his hat…

“Oh my gosh. I touched his hat, I touched his hat-"

The little creature pat at the bone-colored horn that was now exposed and wailed. He huffed, and doubled down to charge like a bull at her. She brandished the hat like a matador. He charged and missed. She took advantage of the distance created by his momentum and ran for the amulet. She miscalculated his speed, however. He grabbed her by the legs and tripped her. She reached desperately for the amulet. She wriggled like a worm to complete the distance. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!” It responded to her touch and reduced it's size to match hers. It flew to her chest and the gnome crawled away fearfully. A clatter of metal as it assembled reduced the gnome to a whimper. 

The girls were concerned by the silence. Darci turned to Blinky. “Isn't she supposed to come out?”

Mary wailed. “She's _dead_!”

Finally they saw the gnome marching along, a bony horn in place of its hat. Behind it was Claire, sewing needle in hand to prod the prisoner along until she could return it to Mary, wearing the hat as a victor. “She summoned the armor and caught the gnome! Well played, Master Claire!”

“He just needed to be picked on by someone his own size.” Claire returned the hat to the gnome and Darci quickly sacked the prisoner. “Now, when is this shrinking stuff supposed to wear off?”

Blinky waved a hand dismissively. “Don't worry. Sleep it off, by morning you'll be good as new.”

 

•••

 

Nomura shuffled around with the precious package in hand as she waited to be picked up. The sky glowed golden in the late evening twilight, the sun dipped partly behind the mountains. 

The brown sedan pulled up to the curb of the museum. She exhaled before she let herself in the passenger's seat. “Did you need to check it,” she asked the driver with a tone of condescension. 

“I trust you.”

“You know that's not true.” Strickler snorted with laughter at his own joke with her retort. She couldn't help but chuckle herself. 

He sighed. He was in need of a good laugh. “Don't bother making tea tonight, either.”

She regarded him with a look of incredulity. 

“I've thought of a long term solution to our problem with the museum security. Bular intends to supervise the project more closely, so I'll make him a peace offering.”

Nomura pouted at the passing scenery. That brute would get in the way more than anything. He didn't understand how meticulous the changelings were in order to keep secrets. When she came to work earlier that day she'd discovered the troll got a head start on busting open packages. If it wasn't done in a certain order, how else would they maintain the whereabouts of all the pieces? “How are you going to keep the security company from intervening when they notice Marco isn't clocking in?”

“The same way we usually do. He'll continue to clock in. Remotely.” She understood his explanation to mean that a phantom would clock him in from within their headquarters. The Janus Order was like a spider in that respect. With a gentle touch on this strand or that, the Order conducted the web of communication like an orchestra. “It should go without saying you're not going to want to go to the museum this evening.”

“A day off. I could use one of those. And your pet?”

“Vacations for everybody.”

 

•••

 

“We're at Darci's studying for our Spanish exam. Mary already failed hers, so Darci and I are trying to cram while we help Mary with her remedial assignment.” Claire leaned into the mic on all fours so her voice didn't disclose how tiny she was. 

Her mother's voice answered from the cell on speaker. “As long as you're studying. Can they give you a ride home after rehearsal?”

“No problem, Mrs. Nuñez,” Darci answered. 

“Don't stay up too late, Claire. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Claire used the flat of her palm to disconnect the call. She exhaled and fell flat on her back, a tiny doll on the bed spread. Darci's comforter was a dull green, but the soft velvet of the fabric made up for it's lack in pattern. 

“So… what are you going to do with it?” Darci looked sorrowfully at the bag that squirmed, rolled and flopped on the bed between them.

“What am I going to do with it? What am I going to do with my mom! I'm going to be toast of this doesn't wear off fast!”

“How far is the river? Maybe we could go old school like they did back in the day with puppies and kittens they didn't want. You know, like in that movie-"

“What is wrong with you, Mary?”

“What! It's not a kitten, despite how attached you think you are to it, and rule number two, it's got to sleep with the fishes. Or maybe, if you combine all three rules and fearfully kick it hard enough-"

“Mary, thank you for your input, but I'd like a moment to quietly contemplate the fact that this will be the first of a lifetime of kills for me.”

Darci considered. “Well…. What if we… took care of it, took care of it. You know. Like a bipedal cat.”

“I can't have cats,” Claire responded quickly. 

Mary speculated, “what is your attachment to this thing?”

“Doesn't Toby have cats?”

Claire's eyes grew wide with realization and she sat up. “Darci, you've got it. Thank you for so generously offering to request of Toby his services to the TrollHunters.”

“Plural?” Mary cut off Darci before she could retract her statement. 

“Girls, you know I'm not going to be able to do this without you. I have presentations coming up, a rehearsal to attend, a duel with a dude whose name includes “the deadly” in the title, and another troll still stalking me, leaving me only daylight hours to do everything, and my mom's schedule for me is more strict than that!”

“I'm not taking your place against Draal,” Darci apologized. “But. I think I can persuade Toby to, what did you say, offer his services to the TrollHunters.”

“While you're at it, think you could get him a Nougat Nummy? I owe him one.”

“Not in the same trip. I'm not taking this to the store.” She pointed at the bag. 

 

•••

 

“We should have gone to my house. I have some doll dresses that might actually fit you. We could have dressed you like royalty!”

Darci leaned over Mary as she sewed by hand. “I don't know what you're complaining about. These are going to be so cute.”

“Help me make outfits.” Mary grabbed a handful of fabric scraps and dropped them in Darci's lap. 

“I can only crochet, sort of.”

Claire tucked the dish towel into a shoe box for her bed that night. “Hey. We could draw a cross on the lid and pretend I'm a vampire sleeping in a coffin.”

“Quit being goth and try this on.” They propped the lid up on the shoe box to grant her privacy. When she was done, Claire leapt aside like a ballerina and twirled in her ribbon dress.

Darci found a butterfly hair clip to attach to Claire's back, and Mary found a binder with flower patterns on front to use as a backdrop. “You look fabulous!” 

They laughed and snapped photos of tiny Claire modelling Mary's handiwork.

Darci stopped to giggle at a text. “Hey, are you cool with me sending a picture to Toby? Since he knows anyway?”

“Um, nah, this’ll be a just us girls’ thing.”

“What are you texting Toby?” 

“I need to ask him about the gnome-”

Mary bizarrely sniffed at Darci. “Are you two dating or something?”

“Maybe?”

“Maybe.” Mary's tone was doubtful. “Did he ask you out or what?”

“I told him maybe we could go out for a milkshake or something.”

“That's a good idea,” Claire encouraged. 

“No, fairy Claire. He's supposed to ask /her/ out.”

“He tried. He got me flowers.”

“Awe! He's so sweet.” Little Claire beamed.

Mary took Claire by the arms to model her in a new position. “Okay, fine. Toby earned cool points with me, too.”

 

•••

 

Claire stretched languidly in bed. Her hands brushed against silk flowers and she pet them absentmindedly. Her eyes grew wide. She sat upright. She was in the shoebox. The six o'clock alarm went off and Claire could see Darci's arm reach over the edge of her bed to shut it off. Mary rolled over in her sheets on the floor. “Girls! Wake up!” They groggily rolled around and moaned and groaned. “Wake up! Something's wrong!”

Mary finally sat up and blinked at her. “What are you talking about, fairy Claire?  ...oh.”

“I can't go to school like this!”

Darci rubbed her eyes. “Guess you're calling in sick. C’mon, your attendance is almost perfect, except for that one day you skipped.”

“My mom found out last time.”

“Know which teacher snitched on you?” Mary started to unpack her outfit. 

Claire combed back a lock behind her ear. “I think she only found out after I spoke to Mr. Strickler the next day.”

“Then kiss up to him. Do something teacher's pet-y. You're good at that.”

Darci picked out her outfit as she spoke. “You could use a day off. Catch up on sleep. Study. Practice your lines. Mary and I will deliver the gnome-" Mary cleared her throat loudly- “I'll deliver the gnome to Toby after class. Everything's going to be fine.”

 

•••

 

Mary leaned toward Darci as she spoke. She had to carry both of their books since Darci needed to make room in her bag for the prisoner. “Since when did you get a hamster cage?”

“Please don't ask. It was a dark time in my life.” Darci sighed. “Poor thing never saw it coming.” She cradled her back pack to make the ride smoother. Outcries informed her when she failed. 

“Are you seriously going to bring it to class?”

“Josie got away with bringing her teacup Chihuahua to school for three days in her purse. I'm sure I can manage one.”

“With a tiny person that can play guitar?”

“I'll just… sit in the back…”

They hushed their voices as they stepped into class and took their seats. That palpable tension seemed to have lingered from the day before. Toby was called up to give his presentation. Darci flashed him a thumbs up and he beamed. Her bag chirped. It chirped again. It chattered. She nudged her bag with her heel and the noise stopped. Then she heard the inflections like it was trying to challenge her. She kicked a little harder and Señor Uhl glanced at her. She smiled. He turned his attention back to Toby, who continued his presentation about the differences between Mexican and Spanish cuisine. Her backpack chattered louder and several sets of eyes turned to her, including the teacher's. 

“Wow, what a great presentation, it's making my stomach rumble,” she narrated as she jostled her bag. She looked imploring at Toby who understood the cue. He raised his voice and tried to borrow from what he learned from acting for the play to keep the class’s attention on himself. Mary glanced back to her with concern in her eyes and they shrugged at each other. Darci unzipped the bag and sharp teeth snapped together repeatedly from behind the bars of the hamster cage. She took a sandwich from the outer pocket and opened the cage just enough to feed the food through. She slammed it shut immediately following. 

The gnome shredded the sandwich as a threat to what he would do to her. He blinked, and the rate at which he clicked his teeth slowed. He yawned and fell over. Instead of his usual babble, he snored. 

 

•••

 

Claire read through the AP history book, specifically about the battle of Thermopylae. “A local Greek told Xerxes about an alternate route. Using that, the Persians flanked Leonidas- that's it! Thank you, AP history!” She threw a fist up in the air and it threw her off balance and caused her to fall back on the bedspread. She looked up at her enlarged hand and screamed. Her left ear suddenly grew and she grabbed it with the smaller hand before that, too, enlarged. She squirmed and wailed at the strange sensations before she fell to the floor. 

 

•••

 

There was a gentle knock at the door. Mr. Strickler sighed. There was too much that needed to be done, and somehow these papers still needed to be graded within the timeframe. “Come in.” His suppressed the instinct to regard his student with the surprise he felt. “Ms. Nuñez? You missed class-"

“I know, I'm sorry Mr. Strickler.” She went up to his desk and placed a large apple as a peace offering. “I had a small problem and couldn't make it to school, so I was studying instead.  And I was wondering, what made the Persian Immortals so intimidating? Their weapons weren't strong…”

“No, but they were lightweight, and so a soldier could carry all the weapons he needed.” He was quick with his answer and gave away his passion for history, holding up an index as he continued his spontaneous lecture. “But their true strength was psychological warfare. They were called the Immortals because their army was always exactly 10000 soldiers. If a soldier was killed, he was replaced, so the number never dwindled. They would also research their opponent's vulnerabilities. For instance, when they fought against the Egyptians in 525 B.C., they knew that the Egyptians worshipped cats, and painted cats onto their shields as a jab at their deity and a challenge to their religion.”

“Huh. Thanks, Mr. Strickler. I think that's exactly what I needed to hear.” She flashed her innocent smile and departed. 

Mr. Strickler sighed and rest his head on his palm.  He considered that he should keep his dagger on this side of the book case. He glanced at the apple. At least he didn't have to pick up dinner. 

 

•••

 

Toby looked into Darci’s backpack as they huddled backstage. Below the metal bars snoozed the gnome. “Turkey puts him to sleep,” Darci explained. She absentmindedly rubbed her stomach in hunger from her missed lunch. 

“Same here. Awe, he looks so cute!”

“He likes to play music. Here's his guitar. He also has a thing for shiny things, Nougat Nummies, and what else…”

“What's his name?”

“I can't name him or else I'll get attached.” She didn't realize it was too late. 

“I've got it! Gnome Chompski.”

“Chompski! That fits him perfectly.” She looked affectionately through the bars at the sleeping prisoner. 

“What are you guys doing?” Claire approached the others. 

Mary leapt up. “You're not pixie sized anymore!” She shut her mouth when Eli glanced inquisitively over, fists still raised mid-celebration. “Mind your business.” She waited for Eli to be out of earshot once more. “How do you feel?”

“I think some things switched sides, but at least I finally got some sleep. Did the gnome get “taken care of”?”

“I'm on it,” Toby saluted. 

“Thanks, TP.”

“TP?”

“Toby pie.” He deflated. Wasn't that also the acronym for toilet paper?

 

•••

 

Strickler pulled up to the parking lot and checked to see whose call he dismissed while driving. A text came in. 

**J** : there's something headed to the museum through the sewers! 

**J** : it's big and black and has horns and swords. It looks like one of the trolls from the books. 

Strickler deduced that Bular was probably waiting for him already, and considered that the boy was still alive. 

**S** : did he see you? 

**J** : no

**S** : go home

**J** : what about you? and Nomura? 

**S** : we have a meeting. Go home. 

Strickler joked to himself about what being a concerned father might feel like and then immediately dismissed the thought. He took with him his dinner, the apple the Trollhunter gave him earlier, along with the crate that he had just picked up. 

He allowed himself into the museum and strolled into the blocked off exhibit. The moonlight shone through the skylight onto the structure with the tarps drawn over it's two mounds. A shadow snarled behind him as it paced. “You're late.”

“And you're impatient. I was waiting for another package to arrive.” Bular snatched from him the wooden crate and Strickler caught the apple he'd balanced on top. The brute tore off the lid and removed the stone inside. He slammed the rest of the box to the ground and it splintered from the force. Bular drew back the tarp and held up the stone. It elevated from his claw. It began to glow. It spun in the air and attached itself to the rest of the structure, which glowed in greeting to the new addition. 

“Killahead will soon be complete. Our man from Germany will be arriving with new pieces soon,” Strickler explained. 

“And my father will know freedom and glory!” Bular momentarily lost himself in his enthusiasm, and the both of them were surprised by the stuttering of the security guard. 

“Hey, what are you doing in here- oh!” Marco stared momentarily with a look of horror at the breathing nightmare that had kept sleep at bay for him. The glitch in the camera footage was real, and larger than he realized. He ran.

Bular snarled back at Strickler. “You were followed?”

“Of course not,” Strickler polished the apple. “I brought you a midnight snack.”

Bular smirked, appeased, and took his time to chase down his prey.


	5. Chapter 5

Mr. Strickler checked off the list  in the margins of his planner. When one had been grocery shopping as long as he had, one would expect it to be a quick and easy trip, but the isles clearly weren't categorized by a changeling or else the chore would be much more efficient. He didn't grab the can of mushrooms when he was- what isle was that supposed to be in? He would grab the fresh mushrooms as he passed the produce aisle, then. He only had a few hours between school ending and his rendezvous with Bular to deliver the groceries and textbooks to the apartment. The task would have also been more efficient if the other shoppers went counter clockwise throughout the store to keep the traffic flowing, getting the shelf staples before getting the refrigerated goods so they were more likely to still be cold by the time they were put away. After living as long as he did, why did he care about these petty things? Yet it was this attention to detail that allowed him to operate a global, secret organization that-

One of the before mentioned shoppers nearly rammed her cart into his. She adjusted her glasses with an expression of embarrassment and recognition. “Oh! Mr. Strickler, right?”

“Ms. Lake.”

“What a surprise! I mean, it shouldn't be, I guess, everyone gets groceries…” she looked down regretfully at her cart of frozen dinners, milk, and cans of whipped cream. Soon to be added were cereal and mini marshmallows.

He smiled politely. He wanted to indulge in casual conversation, but his mind was stuck on the fact that he was buying high quality ingredients for her son to make himself well balanced meals to fuel his unusual development, and here she was planning meals with frozen chicken nuggets. The realization hit that he'd robbed something from her.

She disrupted his thoughts. “How do you do it?”

“Hm?”

“Living alone, how do you-" she sniffled. “I'm so sorry. Why would I even assume such a thing? I- I should probably get going.”

“He's fine.” She looked intensely at him with watering eyes. “Mr. Lake is doing exceptionally well with his studies. His instructors keep me posted on his progress.”

She forced a deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. Strickler.”

“Please, my friends call me Walter.”

“Thank you. Walter.” She wiped an eye and adjusted her glasses. “I should probably, um.” She moved her cart around his. He couldn't stand to let her go.

“I try to get plenty of fresh air.”

She stopped.

“You asked how I manage to live alone. I try to go out often. Keep busy. And fresh air.”

“Would you like to meet up for coffee sometime?”

His facade disguised his surprise at the invite. “Coffee would be a delight.”

 

•••

 

“Batter up!”

AAARRRGGHH!!! munched away contentedly on what Toby jokingly referred to as the Mexican version of hot dogs while Blinky explained the rules to him in a way a troll could understand. There was the sound of a crack and Darci ran into Blinky as she tried to catch the airborne ball. Claire took advantage and ran the entire perimeter of the forge. “Excellent speed, Master Claire. Perhaps if we train a little more using Tobias’s methods you'll come to outrun Draal.” Blinky noted that her speed indeed increased at the mention of the troll.

Toby, from where the soothescryer came up from the floor, called after Claire. “You're going to fight Draal again, right? Didn't he beat you up last time?”

“You really have a way with words,” she huffed once she slapped her feet onto home base.

“Oh, right, think happy thoughts, like… popcorn and a movie, or the newest Nougat Nummy, or-"

“That won't be necessary, Tobias.” Blinky walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Our Trollhunter must learn to master rule number one: always be afraid. Fear heightens your senses, keeps you alive. Arrogance gets you killed,” he looked pointedly at Claire, albeit he couldn't help but smile warmly. She nodded knowingly.

“That seems like an easy enough rule,” Toby observed.

“She must excel at all three. If the trolls are ever to embrace her as Trollhunter, she must ignore her humanly instincts.”

The children packed up their game equipment, consisting of Toby's bat, mitt, and a few baseballs. Darci chided Mary for being on her phone during the game and missing the catch. Mary retorted that she was trying to adjust her WiFi settings on the network Blinky recently installed for them. All conversation died down at the entrance of Draal and his training partner.

“Look, it's playing,” Draal commented. “Cute.” His nose ring swung as he snorted at Claire before he walked past her and continued to insult her to his partner in Trollish.

Blinky observed her dismay. “Let your fear keep you alive,” he instructed her, “let his arrogance lead him astray. Defeat him and you'll make history.”

 

•••

 

“I know contemporary media might lead you to believe that European history is full of swords, sorcery, and scandal. I assure you, the truth is far more interesting, and there's no better place to start than Renaissance era pottery.” No matter how many times she gave the speech, the museum curator seemed to have unending enthusiasm that didn't quite rub off on her audience. They stood at the stairs to the entrance of the museum, the students groaning and rolling their eyes.

Mr. Strickler intervened. “Since we have limited time, Ms. Nomura, perhaps it's best if they explore the museum on their own.” Immediately the class dispersed. Strickler turned back to Nomura and spoke softly so as not to be overheard.  “The fetch is scheduled to arrive tonight.”

“Why are you telling me?” She hissed. “As long as your mutt does his job, it doesn't really matter.”

“He's still just a child, he requires supervision.”

She scoffed. “So who's watching him now? The goblins?”

“He doesn't need to be watched during the day, he knows to stay at the apartment.”

 

•••

 

“This one would fit perfectly with the setting, don't you think?” Claire swooned at the real life renaissance dress from the other side of the glass. If she stood on her toes, the reflection of her face lined up with the mannequin and she could imagine being on stage as Juliet in a more appropriate costume. Darci rolled her eyes and moved on to look at other displays. Mary trailed behind, eyes on her phone.

Steve came up beside her. Claire tried to ignore that he leaned an elbow up on the glass case. “Hey, sorry you got caught up in that tiff between Pepperjack and I.” He lisped as he spoke. “But I want you to know, since joining the play, I feel like there's another side of me that really wants to get out.” His tone mirrored the one he used when she expressed concern for him during rehearsal.

“Apology accepted. You were a jerk.”

Toby couldn't stand to see the interaction continue. He cleared his throat and popped his knuckles. He strolled up to Steve and whispered. “Hey, Steve! Did you hear about the Neanderthals exhibit? Topless.”

Steve chuckled to himself. “Nice! Cave ladies.”

Claire side glanced, barely noticing the change in motion beside her. Toby threw her finger guns to her confusion and carried on down the hall. She turned her attention back to the dress to examine the details in the stitches until a text interrupted her.

 **J** : what kind of costumes are they using for the play? Anything as cool as the dresses at the museum?

  
She gasped. This was just a little too coincidental. She messaged back asking how he knew.   
  
**J** : Toby said the class had a field trip  
  
Claire's expressions relaxed at the response. Her hand brushed back a strand of hair before she typed.  
  
**C** : with the school's budget, I'll be performing in my bathrobe.  
  
**J** : you could pull it off.

“At first, I thought it was an alien…” A crowd gathered around Eli, who brandished his phone to display a blurry picture of a blob. “Definitely not human. It's some sort of monster!” His peers discouraged him for his fantasies. Toby shifted around anxiously. All those words fit too well with the world he agreed to help keep secret. “No, no! This time I have photographic evidence!”

“Hey, Eli, can I see your phone real quick? Oh my gosh!” Toby repeated the last three words to keep Eli occupied as he triggered the screen and selected the icon for the trash can. “Oh darn!”

“What the heck! You deleted it?!” Eli snatched back his phone and stared in horror at the absence of his evidence.

“Darn these stubby little fingers. If it's any consolation, I believed you.” He turned quickly back to warn Claire.

She was exactly where he left her, tapping away on her phone. “Um, Claire? We got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

“Like the kind of problem that's not supposed to exist but almost accidentally did.” His phone beeped, and he held up a finger while he checked it.

 **J** : Tobes, can you do me a favor?

 **T** : sup Jimbo  
  
**J** : Claire told me you guys were at the museum. There's a tapestry in the medieval exhibit, can you send me a pic?  
  
Toby mumbled aloud his responses. Claire crossed her arms impatiently at him as the suspense from their verbal conversation built.   
  
**J** : and if there's a plaque, send me that too  
  
**T** : I can't find a plaque. Is this for history class?  
  
**J** : exactly. Thanks Tobes

“What is it, Toby?” Claire puzzled at him as he took a picture of the tapestry on the wall.

“Jimbo asked for a picture. You told him we were going to the museum?”

“What? He said you told him.”

“Nuh uh. Oh, so about that non-existent problem...”

 

•••

 

There was a spring in her step ever since Dr. Lake bumped into Mr. Strickler in the grocery store. It was a little embarrassing to be caught hoarding comfort foods like mini marshmallows and whipped cream, and instant meals, but with her kiddo out of town she thought she didn't have the energy to prepare healthy meals. Mr. Strickler, on the other hand, was getting high quality raw ingredients. But then teachers don't work double shifts. He recognized her, and was able to answer how her son was doing. One thing led to another, and she didn't feel right not keeping Jim up to date with at least some of it, so on her break she called, hoping it wasn't the middle of class for him.

“Hey m-" he broke into a coughing fit as he answered.

"Are you okay, kiddo? Are you getting sick?"  
"No, I'm fine mom."

"Don't lie to me. It's not like I'm going to fly over there myself. Unless I have to."

"I'm fine. How's work?"

"It's work. There's been some weird cases-” her mind flashed momentarily to the bizarre animal attack victims that had been admitted recently, “but I'm not calling to talk about me. How's school?" She smiled softly to herself. She missed talking to him.

"It's good. It's self driven learning, so I can work at my own pace."

"That's good. I invited Mr. Strickler over, so if there's anything you don't want me to find out from him, tell me now," she teased.

"My old history teacher?"

"Yup. I bumped into him while I was running errands. Apparently your teachers keep him up to date on your progress, and he offered to catch me up. It's not like I can go to a parent teacher conference in Washington D.C."

"Right."

Her pager went off. Duty called. She sighed softly. “I miss you Jim. I have to get back to work now."

"Love you mom. Try to eat healthy? Granola, fruit, stuff that gives you energy."

She grinned at her son's habits. "And you, get enough sleep. I can mother you right back."

"Alright, you got me." She blew him a kiss before disconnecting.

 

•••

 

Toby rolled around on his bed. The Trollhunters, excluding himself, were going to a stake out. He loved stake outs, almost as much as Taco Tuesdays. Every little sound kept him wide awake. Goblins. Maybe they even ate all the racoons, but no one knew any better and continued to blame sounds and messes on the vermin. A noise that definitely wasn't raccoons or goblins broke through the ambient sounds of a sleepy neighborhood through the open window. Toby looked out curiously and saw a brown car had pulled up in front of Jim's house. He pulled out his phone to message his friend.

 **T** : I don't know if you know but Mr S is at your house

He kept watching and was surprised to see Dr. Lake wearing something that wasn't scrubs when she opened the door.

 **T** : with your mom

 **J** : I know. Mom's worried I'm messing up at school or getting bullied

 **T** : oh ok

Should he tell Jimbo that this looked kind of fishy for a parent teacher meeting? He decided he couldn't sleep, and Chompski wasn't much for conversation, so Toby settled for playing video games. Not something that would calm his nerves, exactly, but a welcome distraction that allowed him to almost be too focused to hear when Mr. Strickler drove away, or when not long afterward his phone went off.

“Hello?”

“TP, we're being chased by goblins and we're coming over to your house!”

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh-" Claire disconnected and he hurried downstairs to open the back door. It was still quiet out. Then came the steadily approaching ruckus. “This way,” he called out to the runners.

Claire vaulted over the fence, Blinky clambered over, Darci dropped off of AAARRRGGHH!!!’s back into the yard, and a weeping Mary was carried over by the large troll who swung over easily due to his large arms. “Quick, quick,” Toby beckoned. When he saw the little green monsters closing in on them he urged AAARRRGGHH!!! in hurriedly. The troll’s frame slammed against the door’s.

“Uh oh,” the troll commented.

Toby  glanced over the troll’s shoulder at the approaching monsters and switched on the flood lights positioned over the door. In their surprise, the goblins scattered out of the light like roaches. “Thank goodness for Nana's burglar mania,” Toby said to himself. AAARRRGGHH!!! finally managed his way in and followed the rest of the group up the stairs. Toby lingered back to grab a bowl of snacks for his surprise guests.

“Toby pie, is that you?” An elder, female voice called out from another room.

“Don't mind us, Nana. We'll just be in my room. Binge watch another show and keep the cats inside.”

 

•••

 

Blinky paced, a finger tapped on his chin, an arm folded across his chest to support the other elbow, lower arms clasped behind his back. AAARRRGGHH!!! watched him from beside Toby on his bed with an expression of worry.

Toby felt the urge to break the silence. No one had caught him up on the situation yet.  “Anyone else want a snack? I find stress eating calms me down.”

“I'll take you up on that,” Darci accepted an apple from Toby.

Blinky continued to pace. “I'm sorry to say, Master Claire, but your town is infested with goblins.”

“Must find den,” AAARRRGGHH!!! instructed. He also took the bowl of snacks that was offered from Toby and deposited the vessel and contents into his mouth.

“Yes, and eradicate them at once before they seek their revenge.”

“Revenge?” Claire was leaned up against the desk, thinking her way through the events of the evening.

“On you. And now they know where Tobias lives.”

“So let's find their den. You must have some idea of where it is, right?”

“Haven't the foggiest. It could be anywhere.”

Mary finally broke out of her stupor and shook Claire by the shoulders. “We've got to get my phone back! I feel so naked without it!”

“Toby pie? I don't recognize that voice. Who is that?” The same disembodied voice called out faintly from downstairs.

“It's a friend Nana. I do have more than one.”

“Is that your girlfriend? Would she like some apple pie?”

Darci lit up at the mention of the pastry but didn't get a syllable out before Toby reacted. “No, Nana, we're fine!”

Blinky listened for the woman's voice when a smaller creature was riled up from the recent chaos. Blinky stooped to peer in the structure he had been pacing in front of. The creature hissed at him and slammed the shutters of his tiny abode. “Great Gronka Morka! Is that a gnome in a dollhouse?”

Claire spoke frankly. “You told me to take care of the gnome. He's being taken care of."

“This is in direct violation of rule number two! Whatever happened to finishing the fight?”

Claire waved her arms to the side helplessly. “The fight’s over. It shouldn't always have to end in bloodshed. Sometimes there's a democratic way to end things. Speaking of which, my mom is going to end me undemocratically for being out past curfew, and I'm out of excuses to justify roaming around in the dark to look for a goblin's den. I'm also about to be pulled from my play, which I suppose won't matter if Draal or Bular end me first.”

Blinky steepled his hands together and tried to place himself in her shoes to test the weight of her responsibilities. He exhaled, and changed his tone from that of a disciplinarian to a more empathetic one. “As your trainer, I can only advise, not make your decisions. I understand. You're human. You're learning the rules in your own way. AAARRRGGHH!!! and I will seek out this den, wherever it may be. You just focus on your studies and your play. It seems life has thrown enough at you for one day.” Claire smiled at the reassurance. “But a gnome in a dollhouse?!”

 

•••

 

Mary regarded Claire with envy as she responded to a text message between classes. “The days are so long. Classes are so long. I wonder if Dean has forgotten about me-" she slammed her locker for emphasis.

“You'll live, Mare. A phone isn't everything.”

“Isn't it, though? Like, how ridiculous is it that you need a phone to look up the GPS locator on another phone! I only have one!”

“You have a GPS locator on your phone and only now do you bring it up?”

“I also have amazing insurance, so when I get the replacement, I can use it to locate the one the goblins stole, and I suppose then I'll have two phones, but I'd still only have one number.”

“Mary, how are you so brilliant and yet so dense? Can't Darci or I access the locator on our phones?”

Her eyes lit up like a lightbulb. “... right…”

 

•••

 

Claire smiled at her phone on the desk by her homework. Ever since this chaos began with balancing her studies, play, and responsibility as Trollhunter, it was relaxing to keep up casual conversation with someone who had a completely different set of responsibilities.

Jim was also easier to lie to.

It occurred to her that since he'd moved, she and Jim had never actually talked on the phone. They texted pretty regularly. Earlier she had tried to call him, but he made up some excuse about classes. She didn't buy it. It felt like he was hiding something, or maybe he was really shy. She wanted to coax him out of his shell.

Claire “borrowed” her mom's phone and dialed Jim. It went to voicemail. That was normal phone etiquette for unfamiliar numbers, though- if it was important, the caller can call back (because who listens to voicemails any more). So she did. Voicemail. A third call wouldn't be too much, she reasoned.

 _Forwarded_ to voicemail. She determined that he was there, and ignored her call deliberately. School had long been over by now in his timezone. She called again. Forwarded. One more time…

“Wrong number,” a voice answered. She checked to make sure she dialed the number correctly. “Jim?”

“Claire?!” His surprise revealed that he _was_ trying to avoid her.

“Woah, your voice got deep!”

“I'm… sick. My voice is going.”

She tried to trap him so he wouldn't dump another unlikely excuse and disconnect. “Romeo, oh Romeo! Wherefore art thou, Romeo?”

“- whose phone is this?”

“Nope, that's not how the line goes.”

“Claire.”

She sighed with defeat. “My mom's. She's going to want it back. If I call you back, promise you'll answer?”

“I promise.”

She disconnected. Those two words echoed in her head. She returned her mother's phone, pretending to have found it on the bathroom counter. Back in her own room, she realized she was nervous. She took a deep breath. “Fortune favors the bold, Claire.” She dialed. She held the phone to her ear. She waited.

And waited. Third ring. Fourth. He wasn't going to ans-

“Boo.” She exhaled. It occurred to her that she had been holding her breath and wondered if he felt the same way about talking to her.

Suddenly, she recalled her alibi. “Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“Hang on, let me get the script…” she heard pages rustling and was surprised that he had a copy of the script handy. “Which act are you rehearsing from?”

“The second. Tell me if I get it wrong. I got the first act down for sure.”

“Action.”

“Deny thy father, and refuse thy name!” She paced around the room, trying to remember the lines as well as her mark and gesturing with the one free hand. “Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love and I'll no longer be a Capulet.” She stopped. She cleared her throat.

“Oh! Uh, shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?” She was growing fond of the rumbling of his deeper voice combined with his timid tone.

She continued her performance, and blushed at the last line, “Romeo, doff thy name, and for that name, which is no part of thee, take all myself.” She heard applause from the other side.

“They're going to weep over your performance!” She laughed nervously. She felt giddy.  There was rummaging in the background, so she tried to take the attention off herself for a moment.

“What are you up to?”

“Dinner. Tonight we're having steak medallions and butternut squash. We being me, unless you want to join.”

She imagined eating steak at a table for two, large window overlooking a big city. A fancy dress. Why.

“Sounds great. How much is tuition if that's the kind of cuisine they have?”

“Oh no, I made this. Just in case training kills me, I'm going down with a full belly.”

“Training?” What time was it in D.C.? It seemed like a strange time to workout. Wouldn't it be after midnight- the time when she goes to Trollmarket?

“Yeah, I've got a personal trainer. It's not as cool as it sounds, believe me. Imagine gym with Coach Lawrence, except more brutal.” She did, having flashbacks to the Hero's Forge. “Got any more poetry you need to recite? I'm all ears.”

“Your line is next, Romeo.”

In a second he found his line and proceeded. “I take thee at thy word. Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized. Henceforth I never will be Romeo.”

Accusingly, she retorted, “What man art thou, that, thus be screened in night so stumblest on my counsel?”

“By a name I know not how to tell thee who I am.” His voice dwindled at the end of the sentence. Were they actually on stage, she thought she could see the sorrow on him. There was something in his tone besides the natural rumble of his voice, and the pause made it sink in.

“Jim?”

He picked back up, as if awoken from a meditation. “My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, because it is an enemy to thee. Had I it written, I would tear the word.”

What a perfect performance this would have been if he hadn't moved across the country. She sat at the edge of the bed, tucking a strand back behind her ear. “I really wish you could have played Romeo. You sound so passionate. You would have brought something special to the performance.”

“You have enough passion for the both of us. You were born for the part!”

A tap and clatter at the window caught her attention. She checked her phone. “Oh, no. I'm sorry, I lost track of time. I have to go. Answer your phone next time?”

“If I can. Claire?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling.”

“Anytime.”

She opened her window. Darci and Mary were waiting, Darci at the ready with a handful of pebbles to throw at the window. “I'll be down in a sec!”

 

•••

 

“Claire, you should get a moped. Darci can keep up with us and you and I won't have to break a sweat.”

“Why do you assume you would get to ride on the moped?” Darci retorted.

“Duh, you're way more athletic than me. If Bular found us, you can bike the fastest. And this way you stay in shape for that mascot position you wanted.”

“I can't even apply for another semester!”

“A moped would be nice,” Claire considered. “I bet Jim knows which model would be best.”

“I bet Steve would know, too,” Mary said accusingly.

“I see enough of Steve, I'm not asking him for advice.”

Darci followed Mary's lead. “You have a thing for Jim, don't you? They do say absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Are we close yet?” She couldn't hide the smile that crept up the corners of her mouth.

Mary began to sing. “Claire has a Romeo! Claire has a Romeo!”

Darci shushed her. “The museum!” The girls retired their bikes behind the statue in the park across the street from the museum.

“Great, now we know where their den is. We can go tell Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!” Claire reasoned. Little creatures were barely visible scurrying up the roof of the building. Completely oblivious to them was the museum curator, who carried a package in her arms into the museum.

They watched her go inside and exchanged wide eyed looks. Mary wondered aloud. “Is she going to die?”

“Not if we can help it,” Claire encouraged.

“My phone is in there, right?” Mary whimpered to Darci and stole a glance at the GPS tracker on her screen.

“Yeah, yeah it is.”

Mary put on her warface. “Then let's do this!”

 

•••

 

Mary took the lead. She tiptoed against the walls. Claire was immediately behind her. She slowly depressed her feet toes first to cushion the sound of her footsteps and scanned the building for alternate entrances. Darci took up the back, looking over her shoulder for any witnesses. Claire pointed out the first floor window to the storage closet. Mary ducked underneath and scurried to the opposite side before glancing in. “Coast is clear!” They took turns scrambling in. They gave each other boosts and pulled at each other to reach the window. They stifled one another's squeals as they toppled in on each other.

Darci got to her feet and dusted herself off. “So we got in. How do we get the museum lady out?” She puzzled over their objective as her eyes scanned the unusual shadows. They fanned at the strange smell as they looked out the doorway of the closet to the rest of the museum. They wandered and whispered to each other.

“We're like criminals! Breaking and entering, and now we have to steal something to make her chase us out!” Mary looked into the exhibits to determine which treasure she'd rather go to jail over.

Claire answered in a hushed tone. “We're not stealing anything. And… we're breaking and rescuing. There's other ways to get her to leave, we just have to not scare her or the goblins will get worked up.”

“Well I'm stealing my phone back. Darci, what's our proximity to the target?”

“It might be off since we're inside a building, but… I'm pretty sure it says it's that way.” Darci pointed down the hall where orchestral music played. At the movement of a shadow the girls scattered behind the displays. Claire and Darci huddled behind one, Mary across the hall from them behind another. While the two whispered about the most efficient tactic, Mary spied on the curator who crossed the doorway. There was a pink flash, like a lamp flickered. The curator’s shadow distorted, and a pink monster walked back the other way, marveling at something in its talons. Mary blanched. She whimpered to catch her friend's attention, who each made a slicing motion at her. How was she going to communicate the threat to them, she couldn't so much as text it? She gestured with her hands to show fangs and claws, but the other girls’ reaction showed that they clearly did not comprehend. Claire glared sharply when she heard a sound like bare feet on tile. She and Darci crawled to the other side of the pedestal to hide from the goblin that patrolled the hall after being awakened with the scent of fear. Mary scurried toward them. “The woman! Her fangs! Her eyes!”

“Keep it down, Mare!”

“She's a monster! Pretending to be human!”

“You're going to wake the goblins-”

“I knew I detected the stink of teenage flesh,” a monster hissed. The girls screamed at the hungry, glowing green eyes. They ran for the draped tarps of a neighboring exhibit. They searched for another window or door, but the monster slinked behind them and blocked the only entrance. “But a human Trollhunter,” she considered aloud, “that I've never tasted.”

“You're not going to.” Claire suited up. She brandished her sword.

“Good one, C- bomb!”

Claire made a strike that stopped in the grip of the monster. Her face reflected the glow from Daylight and her toxic-waste-green eyes like polished stone. She laughed as though she'd been told the greatest joke. When Claire's blade was trapped between the claws of her enemy was as good a time to ask. “What are you?”

“I'm what kills you.” The stone woman used the sword to swing Claire up and over and slam her back down to the ground. Claire tried to regain her rhythm and turned back to swing, but, almost as if in a dance, the creature slinked aside and scratched her face. Claire made a wide swipe and the monster leapt over the blade to mock her.

Mary curled her arms into her chest as a goblin dropped from the ceiling in front of her. “Oh my gosh! Ew, ew ew ew!”All fear left at those garbled, musical notes of a phone ringing. The goblin gnawed at the noisy device it sheltered in its jaws to silence the thing. “You! That's _mine_!” Mary lunged at the goblin’s throat. Darci stood over the two wrestling forms with a stolen sword in hand and a Viking helmet on, waiting to act on the blur of stripes and green slime.

Meanwhile Claire was occupied with  attempting to land a hit on the pink stone creature. She dodged Claire's swings with swift twists and dips and countered quickly with a swipe at her legs to knock her prone before she kicked her across the floor with hooves. The monster stood tall and cackled triumphantly until a sting on her finger caught her attention.

Blood was drawn.

She hissed. “You'll pay for that!” The tall creature withdrew blades from her back the length of swords that glowed like molten metal. It was all Claire could do just to avoid being struck by the curved swords that danced to the classical music and sparked against her own. Just the force from the strikes she blocked threw her back. In the time it took her to clamber to her feet, the monster leapt up to the rafters. She cried out as she descended, blades spinning like a fiery tornado. Claire shielded herself with Daylight. Though she couldn't match the monster's speed, the orange blades found her blue one. It was all a game to the creature, who overwhelmed Claire simply to toy with her.

Mary, forgetting that the goblins were capable of devouring a delivery truck, pried her phone from the mouth of the creeper and kicked the creature across the floor. “My precious,” she cooed over her reclaimed treasure. Darci tried to fight off the other goblins, but they simply stood around to stare at her, moving only to duck. They muttered at each other trying to deduce her intentions, but didn't bother to attack her.

In parrying to avoid the blows, Claire left herself exposed. Her vulnerability was exploited with a hoof. She crashed headlong into a tapestry, which fell from its mounting and draped over her. The Trollish woman lazily stood on the wall- hanging- turned- rug and lifted a corner of the fabric with her khopesh to reveal the fighter in a vulnerable position, still wincing from the impact.

“All that fancy armor and you're just a scared little girl,” the Trollish woman observed. She widened her stance to deliver a final blow.

Claire's memory flashed to her first flight when she faced Bular. Blinky scolded her repeatedly for her neglect in rule number one. _Fear keeps you alive_. “Arrogance gets you killed.” She pulled the rug from underneath the creature, whose braced position compromised her balance. The pink monster fell backwards.

A set of goblin eyes grew large in fear.

Green ooze splattered the other tapestry, the pink troll, the nearby goblins. They whimpered at the fall of their comrade before they glared at the the troll and bellowed their oath of vengeance.

“Waka chaka!”

The tables had turned. The once venomous viper now scurried back in fear. “No, no, it wasn't me- _no_!”

Darci brandished her stolen sword at the goblins that dashed past her to exact revenge on the monster that writhed in the corner. Claire caught her attention and they began their escape. Darci had to backtrack to pull Mary from photographing one of the displays.

 

•••

 

Claire gasped when they had biked far enough from the museum. “The bridge! It looks like one of the ones in the books!”

“The bridge? The monster woman! The museum lady! They're the same person- thing!” Mary rambled. “Or maybe the monster ate the museum lady and wears her skin to look human!”

Sirens from the distance drew closer and finally caught Darci's attention. “We need to get out of the street, the police-"

The police pulled up in front of the trio. The voice on the intercom came up.

“Miss Scott?”

Darci nearly fainted. Claire groaned. Mary muttered. “Oh no.”


	6. Chapter 6

“They are so lucky she didn't press charges." Claire eavesdropped morosely from the passenger side through the open window as the adults held their discussion in front of the police station. She would never hear the end of her mother's embarrassment at her daughter getting arrested. She regret it wasn't her dad who'd picked them up. He would start with the silent treatment, but she could have had him chuckling by the time they made it home. At least, of all her teachers, Mr. Strickler seemed the most understanding about the difficult standards she was held to. However, she felt it was beyond her power to sensibly justify breaking into a museum.

“Ms. Nomura is a personal friend,” Claire overheard him explain. “She agrees with me that this was nothing more than reckless youth run amok.”

Claire looked to the backseat at her friends. “You two saw the troll markings on the bridge, right? Doesn't it look just like the one Blinky showed us in the book?”

“The killing something bridge? Wasn't that a long time ago before they moved here?”

“What if they're trying to break Gunmar out? We’ll have to meet up at Trollmarket tonight and warn Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!”

“I can't tonight. Dad's already gonna kill me.” Darci shivered with the anticipation of the consequences. “What are you doing, Mare?” She looked over her friend's shoulder at the screen.

“I'm going through my friends lists and followers wondering who else might be a monster.” She looked away from her screen to spaz at Darci. Her eyes were wide and fingers splayed. “They're walking among us!” Mary turned her full attention back to her task.

Darci leaned slightly to see past Claire through the window and glanced at the adults. “I wonder if Strickler is one of them.”

“Absolutely.” Mary didn't even look up.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Claire chuckled. “Besides, he gave me advice to help beat Draal.”

“Fabulous! How did you manage that?”

The girls were silenced with the steps of the councilwoman as she approached the car. Her moody dark eyes bore into each of them from the rearview mirror. Mary’s phone died that moment, as did something inside when she realized she didn't have the device to console her during the ride to be dropped off at her house. “I am going to have a very in depth discussion with each of your parents about your behavior tonight. There will not be a repeat of what happened. Am I clear?”

“Yes ma'am,” they chorused somberly.

 

•••

 

The two trolls and two humans crowded around the small screen with severity.

Blinky scrutinized the image with his numerous eyes. “Are you certain? Are you unquestionably, unequivocally-”

“I'm certain,” Claire insisted.

“Could be anything,” AAARRRGGHH!!! stated.

“I concur. Mary's photographic skills are a little less than exemplary-"

“ _Excuse me_. My poor phone had been partially digested by a goblin and the lighting was atrocious. My photographic skills are not to be challenged.” She snatched back her phone.

“But what about the curator,” Claire interrupted. “She was a human one moment, and troll thing the next.” Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! exchanged words in Trollish. “A what?” Claire had been studying but didn't recognize the vocabulary exchanged.

“Changeling,” AAARRRGGHH!!! announced to the shock of the establishment, which instantly became silent. Blinky downplayed the outburst with a chuckle. When the other patrons eyes finally turned away and the hum resumed, he spoke sharply to his comrade.

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Blinky leaned forward so he could speak softly to the girls and still be heard. “Changelings haven't been talked about in quite some time.” The feeling someone was watching caused him to pause and address the eavesdropper behind him. “Do you mind?”

“Whatever.” The troll started as though he would depart.

“In the old world, Gumm Gumms-" Blinky glared as the other troll lingered on the opposite side of AAARRRGGHH!!!

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes and left.

Blinky proceeded. “- stole our young and did something unnatural to change them. Their sole purpose: to spy on the world above.”

“What did they do to them?”

“Nasty business.”

“Very messy,” AAARRRGGHH!!! cringed.

Blinky gestured to escort the group somewhere that they could speak more privately. “These are the very reasons I doubt your certainty. I don't question you saw a bridge, but Killahead? It would take years to collect all of the stones. Decades, even. You would need an army of changelings.”

“It was Killahead, Blinky. I saw it.”

“These are serious accusations, Master Claire. Without proof, absolute bedlam will ensue.”

They continued to debate until they were addressed by the unpleasantly familiar blue troll. “Well, if it isn't the piece of flesh I'll pound into pancakes tomorrow. I look forward to your pain, and I'll drink to your death.”

Claire turned to her mentor. “Blinky, tell me you trolls speak in hyperboles.”

“You agreed to a rematch. To challenge a troll’s honor can only end in ruin.”

“I thought we were just sparring! Not a, what was the word, _vidktgör_.”

“.... that's exactly the word we translate to “rematch".”

Claire groaned in frustration. “Okay, Draal, here's the deal. There's been developments of a higher priority that are going to require my immediate attention.”

“You wish to postpone? What a trainer! Does everyone in your company forget how to fight?” He directed the question to Blinky. AAARRRGGHH!!! huffed at the jab. Draal threw his joking demeanor aside and leaned menacingly close to Claire so she could smell his muddy breath as he threatened her. “By Kanjigar’s honor, I would have made your death swift and painless, but for that act of cowardice I will show you no mercy when I take back what is mine.” He snorted as the troll equivalent of bumping shoulders when he passed her. “Bid farewell to your loved ones, Claire the dead meat,” he called over his shoulder.

“Claire-" Mary gingerly reached a few fingers to tap her shoulder.

“Està muerto,” she glowered.  

 

•••

 

“The goblins were supposed to cover our tracks, not lead them to us!” Nomura scowled back at the professor before she stormed to the exhibit to clean the mess. The grating of stone halted her mid step. Bular was there, sharpening a sword on his forearm. As her scent met his nostrils, his eyes flashed onto her as though they locked on a target. She looked back fearfully to the changeling.

“I'm sorry, you've been compromised,” Strickler confirmed her fears.

She snarled at his betrayal, but as the troll stepped toward her, she began to back into the furthest corner. “Please, Bular, spare me!”

“Groveling, impure?” He spoke with condescension and stepped ever closer to his prey.

“You need me! If you dispose of me, who will replace me? Strickler's adopted mutt?”

Strickler visibly gulped.

“What are you talking about?” Bular snarled.

“Nothing of consequence,” Strickler deflected, “merely an intern who's been assisting with the project-”

“A half breed who personally knows the Trollhunter. How long do you think it will take for them to find out Strickler is a changeling, too?”

“We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Without you.” Strickler glared mercilessly at her, eager to end the threat.

Bular was momentarily blind to the power play, concerned only in that moment about his father's return being compromised by this impure. She dodged beneath his blade and maneuvered between the boxes for cover, which splintered at the force of the troll’s weapon as he pursued. A green glow of hope from within one of the tumbled crates caught her eye and she lunged for the treasure she'd retrieved before the ordeal began. She cowered as she held out the offering. “Wait! I've acquired the fetch!”

Bular stopped to consider. “More changelings?”

Strickler tried to shift his focus back. After all, it was the previously mentioned intern who originally had the responsibility of acquiring the object. “But we are nearly finished! What good would it be to bring another-"

“Be quiet, impure.”

“Think how proud your father would be to see his legion grow!” Nomura offered the fetch in both hands like one delivered a gift to a king.

“Prepare the exchange, in case we're ever a changeling short.” Bular turned pointedly at Strickler. He in turn glared defiantly back, pulling at his coat to straighten it. He slinked into a neighboring hall before he withdrew his cell from his pocket. He took a deep breath and made a call.

“Coach Bernie? Yes, how's the boy's performance? Excellent. He's ready to be admitted. I won't be able to stop by, can you take him?” He exhaled at the weight of the deed and sought to smooth out the transition and maintain control. He called another member. “Ms. Williams? When do your evening classes start? Good, I need you to tutor a charge of mine. He's being admitted tonight. Could you give him lessons in the afternoons at the quarters? No, his English is fine, it's his Trollish that needs work. I could think of no one better. Thank you.”

 

•••

 

“Woah, who died,” Steve joked as Mr. Strickler entered class in all black attire. Under his arm he held a blue folder. Mary joined in the gossip with her logic of the probability of it being a student or someone Strickler knew personally. Steve's joke churned Claire's stomach at the recollection of the accidental agreement she made to fight Draal to the death.

“Are you okay?” Eli directed his question to Toby, who mumbled at his phone behind his backpack with the intensity of pleading for answers to a test he hadn't studied for.

Mr. Strickler calibrated the computer and projector as the class continued to mumble. When he was satisfied with the settings he instructed a student by the door to switch the lights off. A news article was displayed on the screen, the word “Washington" in calligraphy in the title above the headline. Mr. Strickler was forlorn, arms folded behind his back as he tried to deliver grave news to a class of children. “I regret to announce that a previous student in this class has recently passed…”

The rest of his words were lost under the cacophony of the class’s reaction. Toby was the first out the door, phone still in hand. Claire followed. Darci and Mary looked at each other, wondering if they could be excused to comfort their friends.

“Wait, Toby,” Claire called after him. He tripped and she knelt beside him to help him up. He jerked away and pounded a fist against the ground.

“It can't be! It can't! Jimbo’s fine- he's- he's sleeping in- he turned his phone off- answer your phone Jim!” Toby got to his knees and yelled at his friend through his device.

Claire glanced at the screen in the boy’s trembling hands. All the recent calls were outbound. “He avoided my calls last night,” Claire reasoned with Toby. She wanted to convince him that they were overreacting to the little evidence of their fears. However, a part of her knew that the answer was back in the classroom, and she did not want to hear the truth.

Toby used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes briskly before he turned to the texted conversation, and Claire saw that it was recently very one sided. “Please. Answer. Your. Phone,” Toby pleaded as he typed out the words. He hit send and sobbed. He clutched his phone as though it were his friend's lifeline that he alone could keep from slipping. Claire reached over and scrolled up. He didn't stop her.

“Look, he's fine, he responded last-" Her logic faltered. The timestamp was from before she spoke with him on the phone. It made too much sense, yet made no sense at all.  The tears began to fall. “No, it can't be…”

Jim couldn't be dead.

He couldn't be...

 

•••

 

The historian stirred his tea, eyes flickering to the blue folder. He opened it lazily and sipped his beverage as he held the phone to his ear. The tea at the café was undeniably better, but that could have been due to the type of company he had at the time.

"Hello?"

"Good morning, Atlas."

"Morning, Mr. Strickler. Hey, everyone keeps saying "happy death day", I don't know if that's another one of those changeling- opposite things. Am I supposed to say it back?"

"No, a death day is celebrated by changelings. It's the day they are first recognized as members of the Order."

"That's a funny thing to call it. -But I'm a member now?" His voice was eager, excited even. But at what cost?

Strickler sighed. "Atlas… James Lake Jr. died today."

"What do you mean I died. I'm right here. I'm breathing. At least I'm trying to."

"You can't be in both worlds. There's nothing but death waiting for you among the humans, this is truly in your best interest." While it was true that Nomura turned out to be the primary driver in this scenario unfolding, it was something that had to happen.

"But, my mom-"

"Don't worry about her. I'll be breaking the news to her myself, in person. I can offer that much."

"Are you dating my mom." That was unexpected. Strickler didn't intend to keep it a secret, but he was aware that this was going to be a sensitive subject that needed to be brought up. He would have preferred to do so later.

"...yes."

Jim groaned, but it came out as a growl. "How did I die."

Strickler's eyes glazed over the printed article sourced from Washington D.C.’s local news. He had it memorized by this time. "A freak accident at the school. You were catching up on some school work in the lab. A student didn't properly clean their station, which resulted in a chemical explosion. James Lake Jr was the only casualty. His things will be sent back to his mother-"

"My mother."

"I'll make sure she's taken care of." The phone was slammed and the line disconnected.

 

•••

 

“Is everything okay, Claire? You've barely touched your dinner.” Ophelia noticed her daughter's somber demeanor. Javier nibbled at his food to make sure he'd seasoned it right, in case it was a sour taste that caused her to behave this way.

Claire laid down her clean fork. She didn't want to put it in words. “My classmate died last night.”

“Ay dios mio. Was it someone you knew?”

She couldn't stop the tear. She wiped it away. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She mouthed the words “excuse me", but her voice failed. She went upstairs to be alone.

In the privacy of her room, she looked at the picture he sent her to use as a contact photo. She felt bitterness. She was bitter she didn't get to talk to him more before he moved. She was bitter that she was powerless to have prevented the incident. She was bitter that she'd had such a great time with him on the phone the night before and not sooner, and yet she was bitter to have grown to care about him at all before he died.

Reading had always distracted her. She tried to read aloud the Trollish script from A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore to make it easier to focus, but the script was blurry behind her tears. She wiped her eyes and pressed the cold amulet to her forehead to ease the headache. She fumbled and it flipped out of her hand and fell bright-side onto the page. When she picked it up, she noticed the script was in English text now. She turned the page and shined the light on it, and the text slithered and became English. “...all this time? Seriously?” She scolded her amulet for its many secrets it guarded and was finally able to lose herself in her reading, using the glow to read by.

Her phone went off after dark. Reluctantly she answered it. “Hey, Claire bear, how are you feeling?”

“Not great. At least now I'll know what it looks like when a student is announced dead in class.”

“I know. I can't believe Steve was still insensitive; it's a good thing you left class when you did. But you'll do fine tomorrow!”

“Thanks, Darci.” She sighed deeply. “We should get some sleep.”

“You're not going to sleep tonight, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“Do you wanna talk instead?”

She was pensive. “You know how in history class it just feels like all we learn about is names and years? Like we never think about how these people we talk about had lives. They had fears and ambitions, like us, but all we know is what happened and not what could have happened.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“I'm the Trollhunter now, but every Trollhunter before me had fears, and they were afraid of what would happen to all the other trolls if they failed. I didn't think about that until now, and I'm not sure that I'm worthy…”

“Woah, Claire. You're worthy. A little late, but you're realizing now how important this is. You're making sacrifices, you're learning their language. You care about them.”

“Thanks, Darci.” She exhaled, her chest still heavy from crying. “You should get some sleep. It's a big day tomorrow.”

 

•••

 

Barbara was accustomed to having a text waiting for her at each break. Granted, she didn't get many breaks, but Jim kept his promise to message her often and it was always a joy to open his short memos. But today was different. Nothing from Jim, but a text from his teacher. His message was formal, and requested to meet up to share some news of great importance. As well as Jim was doing, perhaps this was in regards to a great success?

Granted, she hadn't done that much to fix up. For her, the go- to beige blouse and dark skirt was what it meant to be “fixed up” and she was afraid to accidentally go overboard for a rendezvous with her son's previous teacher. All the same, her nervousness left her feeling  underdressed the second she opened the door. He was dashing in his darker attire, opting for a primarily black ensemble rather than his usual cozy and sophisticated brown and blue outfit. He held a bottle this time also, a stronger port rather than his “cheeky" pinot, but also a folder with a thin packet inside; blue like Jim's jacket.

“C’mon in, have a seat!” She gestured at the couch. He had emphasized politely beforehand that he came over to talk and didn't have the appetite for a dinner and not to concern herself with preparing anything.

“Thank you, Barbara,” he somberly accepted. At the sorrowful creases in his eyes she knew bad news was to follow. She was a little nervous about where their relationship was for him to feel that he could confide in her. Depends on the news, she decided, and resolved that she would be supportive and open minded whatever that may be.

“I'll get us some glasses, just make yourself comfortable.” He made an attempt to smile, and she hoped her own was warm and welcoming. She came back with a corkscrew and a glass in each hand and frowned speculatively at his distracted gaze. He tapped absentmindedly at the folder in his hands until he perceived her presence, where he straightened his posture and again feigned a smile. “Is everything okay?”

He opened his mouth slightly and closed it, cleared his throat, tried again but when his mouth opened he inhaled softly and averted her eyes.

She sat beside him, hoping that her proximity to him might communicate that she was willing him to trust her. She referenced the folder, assuming the answer was there in plain text. “What is this?... tell me these aren't divorce papers…”

“I'm sorry?”

“Nothing,” she attempted to recover. She couldn't help but let her worst fears come to mind with the suspense. “Are you okay?”

“Um, a drink first, I think. To calm our nerves. Hmm?”

She humphed playfully and examined the bottle. “Is this going to be a long night? 46 proof?” It concerned her that he seemed to be having trouble breathing, or at least was visibly tense and no longer attempted to smile. “Is it strong for my sake or yours?”

“Well, I could certainly use some myself.”

She stopped probing. From what she could determine, he had something he had to tell her and she was going to need this. _Please don't tell me I'm a mistress,_ she pleaded silently, desperately. He poured them each a drink, hand shaking slightly, which he apologized softly for. She dismissed it in a whisper. She reserved about a sip to disguise the urgency her anxiety gave her and found he'd tried the same trick, and then covered over their indiscretions by topping off both glasses before he finally began. He took a deep breath and her heart stopped.

“This is not easy for me to say. However, I felt that it would be an insult to you to find out any other way. It's about… are you quite alright?”

“I'm breathing,” she lied. “At least, I'm trying to.”

He visibly winced at this and reached for her hand. She squeezed his, fearfully. “It's about Jim. He…” she squeezed harder. He was losing feeling in his fingers and ignored it. “He… I'm so sorry…”

“No.” Her voice was as strong as her grip. She felt her temperature flash, in an instant she was icy, in the next instant she felt consumed in flames. “No. No. This can't be. Don't say it.” Her voice finally fractured, a tear dropped, beginning the path for more to follow. She mouthed the next few words, but they failed to create sound. She swallowed, the glass in her hand threatening to weep on her behalf onto the floor. “H- how.”

He dared himself to meet her eyes as he delivered the news, but his view flicked downward repeatedly. “There was an accident. In the science lab. He went there to study after classes. Had a test coming up. He would have scored phenomenally.” She made a sound between a neigh and a squeal, and swiftly he removed the glass from her hand and deposited it on the table and folded her toward him so that she wept into his shoulder. Syllables came from her between the wailing, the only audible ones including multiple pronunciations of “no". He wrapped his arms around her as if to protect her from the pain he delivered, a hand pat down her hair and an arm squeezed across her upper back.

A voice in her mind repeated the obvious, pointing out the heaviness in his breathing she could feel pressed this close to him, repeating it despite the irrelevance. She knew it was the shock. It's the shock. The words echoed back to her repeatedly. She was in so much pain and yet this was still just the initial shock.

She had sudden recollections of each of the relatives of her patients that heard the worst news of their lives, and she delivered that news, and she had to stop herself from turning away from them and just moving onto the next patient because they were not okay, they were in shock, and how would she handle it if she were them? And here she was, and something asked her, are you handling it like you thought you would, and no answer came. How could she handle this? She was in shock.

 

•••

 

“Gathered trollkind! The Trollhunter has laid a challenge before the son of her predecessor, and you shall all bear witness to the ensuing battle, which will be one for the ages!” The crowd of trolls roared at Vendel's announcement. Panels in the walls had been withdrawn and the specters stood against the raised ledge overlooking the forge.

Claire stretched in anticipation of the battle about to ensue. “I still can't believe he tricked me into agreeing to a vidktgör.”

“You got this C-bomb,” Mary encouraged.

“But just in case, what do you want us to write on your tombstone?” Darci had a look of concern as her eyes scanned the rainbow crowd of burly creatures beyond the gate.

AAARRRGGHH!!! pat her encouragingly on the head with his oversized paw. Blinky held a pop quiz. “It's time to put everything I taught you to practice.  With a little luck, he'll trip and fall. Now tell me, what is rule number one?”

“Always be afraid,” she recited.

“Rule two.”

“Always finish a fight.”

“Rule three?”

“Kick him in the gronk-nuks.”

He noted she didn't smirk this time.

Their discussion was interrupted by the announcement from Vendel. “Draal, son of Kanjigar, son of Tarigar, Draal “the destroyer". Come forth.”

Claire watched the blue geode roll down the entry way, skillfully avoiding the ledge and catching air like a rocket to land powerfully into the arena.

“Master Claire, if I may.” Claire turned to regard him at his gentle tone. “Destiny is a gift. Some go their entire lives living existences of quiet desperation, never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders is actually a sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights. Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero. Don't think, Master Claire. Become.” He rest a hand on her shoulder. “The amulet chose you, and I believe that it chose true.”

“And now,” proceeded Vendel, “Draal’s combatant, Claire Maria Noon-yez, daughter of-" A nearby troll whispered in his ear, “ councilwoman O-feel-eya Noon-yez.”

Two guard trolls took their cue to escort her to her position. Blinky cheered her on. “Fight from your heart, master Claire! It's strong, stronger than any rock!” The heavy bars dropped to seal them out, or the combatants in. He muttered softly. “And certainly stronger than mine.”

The combatants faced each other from the center of the forge. Draal kicked up dust when he slammed his fists and roared to display his power. Claire relied on unnerving silence like the Immortals, but she was not an army of 10,000, and so the impact was drowned out by the audience. Vendel bellowed. “Prepare for battle!”

She took a deep breath. The amulet sensed her resolve and donned itself in anticipation. The blade that manifest in her hand used to be as light as light itself it seemed, a means for her to carve her way into the world. This time it was different, heavy with duty, and the task before her somehow seemed harder.

“Begin!”

The ground shifted, and then rose. The floor climbed and climbed. Finally, it stopped with a jolt. Claire struggled to maintain a calm facade with the clicks and thunks as the panels that compromised the terrain shifted one at a time to rest in tiers. Draal charged her. She panicked, knowing she couldn't hold her blade against his force, and leapt to an adjacent tier. When he recovered from the force of his landing, he pursued her. She rolled out of his way. She knew his own weight slowed him down, but she couldn't take advantage of the pause before he grabbed her by the ankle, spun her, and threw her against the wall of the forge. Her armor sparked as she slid down the entirety of the wall. To save her knees, she hit the ground running, and almost didn't stop in time. She balanced precariously at the ledge of what remained of the floor before the drop off into the inner workings of the structure. She had flashbacks to gymnastics when she was in elementary school, and waved her arms to regain her balance.

Draal threw his fists up triumphantly to the excitement of the crowd. He then threw himself up against the wall and curled. The rocky shards on his back shredded the surface of the stone and kicked up a dust cloud as he descended. Tactfully, he harnessed his own momentum and angled his path to avoid the gears. He rushed past Claire, and seemingly a second later had completed a lap and headed straight for her.

Claire tapped the tip of her blade twice on the ground and brought Daylight up and to her side like a bat. Her sword glowed and shimmered, and the light traced itself across the grooves in her armor to brace her against the incoming impact.

There was the sound of a crack. Claire staggered back, the ground uneven now from the field of magic she had briefly generated. In front of her, the troll landed with a crash. He shook his head as though dazed, not because the impact disoriented him, but because of the surprise that the fleshbag managed to land a hit.

“I can't believe it! Tobias’s methods are actually paying off!” Blinky cheered.

Mary hid her face behind her hands. Darci cheered with Blinky. “Home run! Who's fabulous? C- bomb is!”

“Ten whole seconds! She's not dead! That's a fortuitous sign.” As if to spite Blinky’s hope, Claire ran past them with a grating, spinning ball of destruction on her heels.

“Don't jinx,” AAARRRGGHH!!! warned.

The rolling troll went up the wall to gather momentum once more and circled around the Trollhunter. He broke out of his roll to deal a hard blow against her, and she had no ideas on how to prevent it. She put her arms up in fear, and the amulet hummed. Another crack like the one before, and a magical field manifested around her and cratered the ground beneath from the troll’s force. The crowd gasped in unison, and her support team whimpered and covered each other's eyes. Claire tried to recover from the impact, but before she could, she was airborne again. She felt an impact across her body, but it wasn't the ground. She spun in the air and felt a solid surface below her, but it's movement continued to jostle her equilibrium. Finally she recognized that she was on a platform that raised to the level of the center of the floor. She struggled to her feet and realized her left side throbbed in various places. Draal boasted and puffed out his chest as though he were already victorious. Claire observed the panels each spin separately until they were perpendicular to their original positions, one at a time, except that partway through the sequence they spun in opposite directions. She couldn't think fast enough and wasn't sure what to anticipate until the ground tilted beneath her. She went for higher ground and barely managed to latch on to the ledge. It should have been easy for her to pull herself up, but she took a beating a moment ago and her flesh would not let her forget it so soon. Draal strolled casually to her hanging body and stomped on her fingers.

She fell. At the last second her legs cooperated and she kicked against the panel to land on what remained of the original floor as opposed to the glowing red hot gears. She heard her the panel settle into the ground once more and her opponent approach.

In spite of her own pain, she smirked. “Rule number three.” She kicked.

The whole audience groaned with empathy. The troll doubled over in pain. He squinted through it, and discovered his opponent missing. He snorted, and huffed, and turned. Claire tip toed behind him.

“By Deya’s grace, she's found his weakness! Draal’s blind spot!”

Darci shook Blinky by the shoulders. “She flanked him! Like the Persian army flanked the Spartans!”

Mary hid her face against AAARRRGGHH!!! “Just tell me when it's over,” she whimpered.

Draal called out angrily to his invisible enemy. “You cannot be the Trollhunter! You're a human child! I am the son of Kanjigar!”

By this time Claire had stepped back toward a tall, narrow alcove. She'd memorized the location of every blade here since her first night. Finally, she applied her take on psychological warfare and further exploited Draal’s weakness. “And I am Claire Maria Nuñez, _successor_ to Kanjigar, because the amulet _chose me_.”

Hot with rage he charged her. She relaxed in her stead, as if welcoming her end, but at the final second swayed to the side. The glisten of an axe swung up to meet Draal. Like ammunition from a slingshot, he was propelled up, and arched down beyond the edge of the arena.

“She did it!” Darci and Mary cheered in unison and high fived.

Blinky interrupted their premature celebration. “It's not over yet. She must finish the fight.” The crowd agreed, chanting the second rule to trollhunting.

Claire, limping, approached the ledge. Draal was indeed still hanging on, but he looked heavy with defeat. She saw herself in his place. He fought her genuinely believing she didn't care enough for the survival of the trolls to be worthy as their defender. He was protecting his people, just like she would have done anything to protect her family. She channeled all her might into Daylight, which charged with light in response before she used it to pierce the terrain. She used it as a grip as she reached for his hand.

“The fight is to the death,” he panted.

“I am not here to kill, but to protect. Starting with the family of my predecessor.” Reluctantly he accepted her hand, and her armor glowed with a surge of power to grant her the strength to pull him up.

“You should have killed me,” he grimaced. The crowd booed at her act of mercy.

She made sure he was stable on his feet before she turned to address the crowd. “I may not have followed your rules, but neither did the amulet when it chose me. What honor would there have been in slaying a warrior, when this is a time for us to unite! There are changelings in Arcadia-"

“Master Claire!” Blinky rushed over from the side lines.

“What! I'm giving a speech-”

“Say no more! We must leave this instant.” He pulled on her wrist to escort her out of the arena.

“They have a right to know!”

“And you have a right to listen. Ours is an ancient race. It will take time to win hearts and minds.”

Claire glanced back at the ruckus that continued, seeing her opponent showered in debris from the crowd. “Why are they treating him that way?  … are they throwing gnomes?!”

“Claire!” her friends charged at her the moment she left the arena.

“Ouch!” She winced at their embrace. “Still sore.”

“You were so noble,” Darci praised, “That speech was going to be beautiful.”

“I know you don't want to hear this, but if it weren't for the skipping school part, your mom would have been proud.”

“I'm actually touched by that, Mary.”

Vendel glared from a distance. “AAARRRGGHH!!!, Blinky, a word.”

“Good fight,” AAARRRGGHH congratulated, giving Claire a final pat on the head before he mosied over to the head troll.

“Yes! Very good fight, master Claire! We should celebrate later!” Blinky’s voice was chipper, but something about the way he moved his arms indicated uneasiness as he turned to approach Vendel.

 

•••

 

She sighed as she stood before the door. “Simple Claire again.” Going through that door was like a portal, to a mundane existence of monotony. She turned the handle and stepped through. “Mama, Papa, I'm home. I'm going to go practice my lines.”

“In here,” her mother summoned. She couldn't refuse. “We have a guest.”

She grumbled to herself. “Another political rendezvous? Now?” She made her way to the living room and halted at the sight of the scene.

“Don't you have something to say to Ms. Nomura?”

The museum curator’s green eyes smirked knowingly. Claire looked around to her parents. Javier was trying to force a stern face and tolerate the tea for the sake of appearances, but Ophelia’s eyes warned her sharply to do her part. She put her actress face on. “I'm so sorry for trespassing at the museum. It's an unforgivable offense, and I apologize.” She dropped the act and folded her arms over her torso. She took on Draal. She was the Trollhunter. She was going to protect her family. “But if you don't leave here this instant, you'll be the one trespassing, and you will be the one who's sorry.”

“Claire Maria Nuñez,” her mother began to reprimand. A slow stream of Spanish began and ended with a clatter from her cup and Javier's as they each folded over. “Mama! Papa!”

The serpentine changeling clicked her tongue. “Very moving speech, but they won't remember it when they wake up and find your body-"

Claire gasped at the smallest sound from upstairs. Nomura glanced quickly up, and smirked. A flash of pink light filled the room before an orange blade sliced through the air at her, followed by an explosion of blue light as Claire held the amulet out in defence at the last second. Changeling and amulet flew across the room. Claire took the opportunity to scale the stairs and dive into the nursery, locking it after herself.

Enrique safely cooed and giggled from his crib, oblivious to the meaning of the haunting whistle that carried through the cracks around the door. “Hermanito,” she called to him. She swaddled him in a blanket and cradled him. “I don't know how to make this work,” she explained, and stifled a squeal at the rattle of the door. She opened the top drawer to the dresser and a blue light reassured her. She muttered the incantation softly, and her brother squealed at the light display.

“You can't hide forever,” Nomura chided, talons curling from below the door, scarring the wood. “Trust me, I would know.”

Claire hurriedly opened the window. Unlike her room, there wasn't an extension of a roof to climb on. She looked up, and the upper roof was too high and far for her to reach. She glanced down. She wasn't sure how to make the drop, or in what way she could fall without hurting her baby brother. She couldn't keep up in another fight so soon after battling Draal. Hanging on the ledge and dropping seemed the best solution, could she brace his head in time?  Would she break her legs? She looked desperately around the room for any way to slow their descent and leapt at the bang on the door.

But the door remained standing. Now she heard sounds like combat. It sounded further and further, and she thought she could run to her room. She cradled Enrique’s head as she dashed through the hallway and headed straight for the window in her room.  As she did, a blur leapt onto the patio roof, and then onto the upper roof. She couldn't look after it for it had moved too quickly, but someone was pursuing the changeling. She changed direction and hurried down the stairs and to the back door. She could run into the woods, and perhaps eventually to Trollmarket. She made it as far as the patio when she heard the grating sound she'd become all too familiar with that afternoon. The pink changeling was holding her own against the troll, glowing orange khopesh sparked against the stone shards that spun like the blades of a saw. As the changeling leapt aside from the onslaught, she chose the side that would take her right to the Trollhunter. Claire curled her body around her brother and turned away. There was the sound of stone and metal clashing.

“What are you doing here?” The changeling asked incredulously.

“Delivering you pain again, Nomura. Do not touch the Trollhunter,” Draal roared, his back to Claire.

“Suddenly you're honorable?” Nomura changed her stance, and coyly played with her lip using the tip of her blade. “Sorry to hear about daddy. Bular always liked the way he screamed.”

Even Claire winced at the changeling's words. She cradled Enrique in such a way that he wouldn't be able to see the violence, but rather her hopefully reassuring smile as she consoled him while her eyes darted repeatedly to the fight. Draal charged forward angrily and swung at the changeling with his fists, whose moves were too fluid to stop until she brought a blade down on his head. He charged her, anticipating to ram her into a tree. He was too predictable- she used the tree to leap over him and exploit his blind spot. By the time he regained sight of her she saw where he left himself exposed and cut at the inside of his arm. Enrique cried at the roar and Claire realized she let her smile slip. She bounced him in her arms and summoned Daylight, afraid she would have to use it. She glanced up at the flashing light in her peripheral and recognized the move of rapid succession of slices the changeling had used to overwhelm Claire in the museum. Draal seemed to also be too familiar with it. He managed to anticipate and clutch the blades in his bare hands. He roared. Claire smirked as the changeling was thrown over and slammed down as the changeling had done to her, but not just once, not twice, but three times. Instead of finishing the move with a final slam against the ground, the troll threw her up beyond the treetops.

“Impure,” he said with disdain, and spat on the ground. He looked back casually to Claire. “You were right.”

She was still acclimating to trolls and wasn't sure what to make of his presence. “You're not here to kill me?”

“Not kill, protect.” The plate mail dissolved in blue beads of light and the amulet dropped and rolled across the lawn. She gaped at him with uncertainty. Draal picked up the amulet and held it out to her, his eyes lingering on the swaddled baby in her arms. “Starting with the successor of my father.”

Her eyes widened with surprise at his admittance. Warily, she accepted the medallion. She stepped aside as the troll allowed himself inside. “So… what happens now?” She followed him in. Her baby brother wriggled and attempted to throw himself backwards out of her arms to see the guest.

“Your battles won't always be waged in arenas. You won't have time to prepare, to study your opponent, as you did me.” The troll sniffed at the only cup left whole from the tea party, and pushed it to the floor as a means of disposing the poison. Claire looked with guilt at her parents crumpled around the table. She adjusted the baby in her arms so he could see the troll and hopefully stop squirming. “Since I cannot go back to Trollmarket, I will guard your home.”

“I don't think that's a good idea-" she couldn't intervene as he expertly angled his head to fit his crown of horns through the doorway to the basement.

“This is nice,” Draal observed once he'd descended. He went to the furnace and sampled the coals. “Here I'll protect your fleshbag family. Your parents will awaken soon. I protect. I do not clean.”

“Right.” Claire deflated at the prospect.

“You are the Trollhunter. It is time for you to start being afraid.” She nodded, all too familiar with how poorly she followed the Trollhunter rules.

“I'll start cleaning,” she stated. Claire started up the stairs again when he called her.

“Fleshbag.” He stepped closer, and she saw that he harbored no animosity toward her anymore. “Maybe you'll make a good Trollhunter, after all. When that time comes, I will be proud to fight by your side.”

Claire reached out to rest a hand on the troll’s stony shoulder. “Thanks, Draal.”


	7. Chapter 7

The quiet hum of the freeway and soft chirps of crickets maintained a sense of life in the quiet town as it slept. The two students crept against the wall of the museum, glancing warily at the shadows cast by the orange streetlights.

“Where's Mary?” Claire tested the window to the storage room. It swung open.

“Apparently if her phone isn't on the line, you can't convince her to go on a trollhunting mission.” Darci clasped her hands together to boost Claire up to the window. “That, or she's scared of Vendel.” Claire in turn, once at the windowsill, reached back to pull Darci along with her.

They tumbled into a pile on the floor. Claire glanced around. “I hope Blinky took care of the cameras.”

Darci sniffed the air and realized the storage room smelled like cleaning supplies this time around. “The goblins are gone.”

The girls found the trolls critiquing the dresses on display. “Ridiculous garment,” Vendel said with disdain as he prodded the mannequin with a scepter of glowing orange stone.

“You're late,” Blinky complained to the humans when he perceived them. It wasn't an easy task to keep Vendel at bay.

Claire knew just the excuse to appease the scholar. “Sorry, I was reading-"

“With Draal.” Claire looked sharply at Darci.

“Draal?” AAARRRGGHH!!! spoke the name with surprise.

She tried to reclaim favor with them and casually elaborated as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, he's tutoring me in Trollish. He kinda moved into my basement to guard the place.”

Blinky steepled his hands. “Of course. When a troll is defeated in combat, it's completely natural for them to take refuge in the victor’s domicile.”

Claire wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or if this was troll culture. “So you understand?” The larger troll knowingly shook his head in reply.

“I understand that such arrangements can only end in disaster. Utter disaster!”

Vendel struck the ground with his staff. “Are we  simply waiting here to be discovered? Or were you planning on showing me this thing you believe you be the Killahead bridge?”

Blinky chuckled to lighten the mood. “The Trollhunter was just about to show us the way.”

Claire and Darci went ahead, explaining along the way the directions they went during the various stages of their encounter. “And then we ended up running into the closed exhibit- see?” Claire pointed at the large object covered with a tarp. Blinky gave a knowing side glance to Vendel. The girls went to pull at the fabric until AAARRRGGHH!!! volunteered to take up the task. With a single jerk, the material fluttered and settled around the museum's most recent attraction.

They uncovered a Viking ship.

Claire stuttered. “No, that's not it, that's not even what I saw-"

“That is not a bridge,” Vendel stated matter of factly.  

“But there was definitely a bridge! Right, Darci? You saw it-"

Darci stuttered. “Mary saw it. I… I didn't notice it when I came back to get her, but I… it might've been there… she took a picture of something….”

Vendel's voice boomed with disappointment, and his staff punctuated his statements. “Blinkous Galadrigal. I have not left the Heartstone in over a century. I only did so tonight because of the grave peril the Killahead represents. For you to invoke that danger without just cause-"

“If Master Claire says it's so-"

“You will be only too quick to believe her,” he accused. “You've never met a conspiracy theory you didn't like.”

“I hate conspiracies. That is why I am dedicated to rooting them out.”

“Like you rooted out the plot to rid Trollmarket of all its cat meat…” Claire looked resentfully at the vessel. Something seemed ironic that the structure that crossed water was replaced with a structure that crossed water. It had to be a replacement, she knew the bridge was not dreamed up. Vendel's words drifted back to her. “It would seem your pupil is desperate to play the hero, while you are desperate to see danger where none exists. AAARRRGGHH!!!, take me home.” Darci whispered an apology to Claire and hung her head as she went alongside the trolls. Claire and Blinky were left to stare at what remained of their phantom bridge.

Blinky sighed. “Perhaps Vendel's right. Perhaps I have flooded your imagination with flights of fancy. I blame only myself-"

“No, Blinky,” she pleaded. “You have to believe me. I know I saw the bridge. Just like the depiction in A Brief Recapitulation. I even double checked the book before I came here, it's the same!”

Blinky exhaled again and turned to her. He rest a reassuring hand on her back and another on her shoulder. “If the proof isn't here, it has to be somewhere. You worry about your studies. I'll worry about this.”

 

•••

 

The lead actress paced around, muttering to herself. She paused to check her script. It was at rehearsal that she was reminded that before becoming the Trollhunter she would have had the entire play memorized by this time. For an instant she recalled the only phone call she had with Jim and forcefully blinked away the memory. She glanced around at the other actors. “Where's Toby?”

Steve spoke up, his intended impression completely destroyed by his own lisp from his missing tooth. “That loser’s probably heartbroken about Lake blowing up. Who knew science was so deadly?”

“I did,” Eli volunteered.

“No one's talking to you!” Steve lisped.

Claire turned to Mary, bearer of gossip. “What is he talking about?”

Mary flipped her hair over her shoulder. “You didn't read the article? Jimmy was studying in the school's science lab after school and there was a chemical explosion.”

Claire shook her head. “That can't be right.”

“How would you know?” Mary was defensive about her data being challenged.

“He was on his way to training, and it was already pretty late. No school is going to have the science lab open in the middle of the night.”

“The news makes mistakes-"

“That's a pretty big mistake.” Claire's brow furrowed. Involuntarily she vividly recalled his last words.

_Just in case training kills me, I'm going down with a full belly._

His joke lost its humor. “Did he know,” Claire whispered to herself. She tuned out Steve's complaints about everyone being hung up on a dead guy as she pondered.

 

•••

 

“Master Claire. Master Claire?”

AAARRRGGHH!!! took a deep breath and bellowed. “MASTER CLAIRE!”

She jumped at the volume, her hair blown into her face. She put aside her calculations of the timezones. “Sorry. Paying attention.”

“As I was saying,” Blinky resumed as he led them along one of the passageways through Heartstone Trollmarket, “assuming that Killahead bridge was in Arcadia, and it was indeed, as you say, delivered to a clandestine location, that would mean more changelings, scavenging, assembling and disassembling. If we prove that the museum curator wasn't working alone, then Vendel might start believing that you saw the Killahead bridge.”

“So we find another impure,” she reasoned.

“First of all, stop saying that so loudly.” Blinky had to look over his shoulder. The same troll that had been eavesdropping in the pub happened to have his curiosity piqued by the syllables Claire so carelessly uttered. “Do you mind?”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. He carried on in another direction.

Blinky continued. “Changelings have not been heard or seen in Trollmarket for centuries. The mere word could cause hysteria. Secondly, you are picking up way too many things from Draal.”

“He's teaching me dialect. But I'll take it with a grain of salt. Anyway, how do we find one?”

“RotGut’s,” AAARRRGGHH!!! supplied. His eyes were bright like a child visiting a candy shop. Claire and Darci also looked up and marveled. A massive troll head smiled out of carved stone overhead, and towards the belly of the false creature was a set of ornate stone doors. They were embedded with stained glass mosaic windows like gems.

Blinky explained. “Purveyor of fine charms, totems, and spells. Follow my lead.” He knocked on the door.

The circular window that resembled a faceted citrine slid open. A blue eye of an orange troll peered through. “Ailment or curse?” He droned the old sales pitch.

A lower window on the adjacent door slid open, the one red eye of a green troll glaring at the eye of the orange beholder. “Oi, numbskull! I'm supposed to answer it!”

“But I already did answer it,” the first speaker retorted innocently.

“What is not clear about “I deal with the customers, you handle the wizardry”?” The green troll had shut his window mid sentence, muffling his criticism.

“Hold a tick.” The gentler giant slid his window shut.

Blinky turned back to the confused humans and chuckled. He lacked sincerity in his humor.

The green troll opened his window once more, still mumbling. “Good, Rot, stick with that.” His blue eye swiveled to the customers. “Welcome to RotGut’s. How may we service you?”

“Totem, my good troll.” Blinky took a step toward the door and cupped a hand around his mouth. “We suspect one of these fleshbags may be a changeling.”

The other window opened. Rot looked about at the girls behind Blinky. AAARRRGGHH!!! noticed. “Other fleshbag.”

“You're going to need a gaggletack,” Rot supplied.

“Unfortunately, you see, we're running a bit short on those. Very hard to get,” Totem followed.

“But I've got a bag of them right here.”

“What in the world? Excuse us for one moment.” The window to the right shut, muffling the troll once more. “Ey, what are you doing? I'm trying to drive up the price over here.”

The eye on the left looked morosely. “I thought we were trying to help these nice folks.” The citrine window slid shut.

“A gaggletack?” Darci looked to the others for an answer. Clair pondered, trying to recall where she'd heard the word before.

“Rare artifact,” AAARRRGGHH!!! explained.

Blinky’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “Exceedingly rare. An object of great mystery. With physical contact, it reveals the true nature of a changeling.”

Claire recalled the term from when Draal read to her earlier. “Hang on, isn't that a-”

“Step back, please,” Rot warned, his business partner rambling in the background. A drawer protruded from the door. Claire instinctively shoved Darci out of harm's way. The gaggletack flew from the drawer and bounced off of AAARRRGGHH!!! It ricocheted from his chest and hit Claire in the back of the head. “Ouch!” She rubbed the sore spot and Darci picked up the artifact.

“...a horseshoe?”

“Made of pure iron,” the large troll added.

“Why would you put something so precious on a horse's foot?” Blinky looked, bewildered, at the girls, who returned the same expression. He waved aside the confusion. “Beware. Changelings are swapped with their human counterparts at birth. So, it is likely these troll-pretenders have dwelt among you for decades.  They could be anyone.” Blinky punched a fist into his open palm as he went down the list, his hands clicking together with the sound of stone. “Used car salesmen, tax collectors, television executives.” Claire understood from his enthusiasm why Vendel made accusations about Blinky being obsessed with conspiracy theories.

Darci contributed. “Ice cream truck drivers? Dentists-?”

“Yes, especially dentists.”

Claire shrugged. “Where do we start?”

Darci toyed with the horseshoe in her hand. “I have an idea.”

 

•••

 

Toby stared at the screen, the only source of light in his room. His eyes were red and puffy. He ignored the door opening. He squinted as a lamp flickered on and disregarded the crinkle of candy bar wrappers under foot.

“Toby pie.”

He dropped the controller and spun around in shock. A musical tone of dismay declared his character dead from his sudden neglect. “Darci?” He looked around at the disarray surrounding him. It looked like he'd invited the junkyard to spend the night. He was ashamed, but too lethargic to consider cleaning. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you.” She stooped at the dollhouse and offered Chompski a wax soda pop candy to share with Sally Goback. She then took out a spare controller from her bag and connected it to his console. Toby changed the game setting to multiplayer without a word. She kicked aside some wrappers and settled down beside him. He held out a candy bar.

“Nougat Nummy?”

“I'm not hungry this time.” He looked at the bar before he laid it carefully aside. They were quiet; the only sounds were the buttons clicking on the controllers, the soft beeps from the game, and an occasional sniffle from Toby. He was grateful for her company, and that she wasn't obtrusive. She didn't ask how he felt. She didn't criticize his laziness. She didn't pry. She was just there, approachable. It was the best thing he didn't know he wanted.

They finished two levels together before he asked again. “Seriously though. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be trollhunting or doing homework or rehearsing or something?”

“I could say the same to you.” Darci continued to punch combos on the controller. “There's changelings among us. Like that strategy game where some of the civilians you try to rescue turn out to be aliens bred to spy on the humans. We need your help finding them.”

Toby sniffed. “How do you know my language?” A celebratory tune congratulated the players on completing a level.

Darci exhaled heavily and rest her controller on her lap. “I'm really sorry about Jim. I know I didn't know him very well, and I've never lost someone that I was so close to.” She wiped her eyes as they started to glisten. “But, I'm always afraid that I will. Every day my dad comes home from work is a blessing, and every time I talk to my brother is a relief. I've come to accept that my loved ones won't always be here with me and try to enjoy being with them as much as I can. So please don't be alone anymore.”

She wiped her nose and put her arms around Toby. The heaviness that once filled his chest now trembled with the flutter of his heart at her proximity. He sighed, and some of the sadness seemed to escape with his breath.

 

•••

 

Claire sighed. Being a guardian of a mythical species had some eccentric demands. The student body that congealed at the front of the building churned around the Trollhunter team, oblivious to their scheme. “So the objective is to use the… gaggletack and make physical contact with every student in the school. How do we-”

Mary cleared her throat. Darci and Claire watched expectantly. “How do we get around? Gee, I wonder who we know who, by nature, does that already.” There was a spark in her eye. Without a word Darci handed over the horseshoe. Toby looked inquisitively between each of the girls, completely at a loss at the implication. “I'll give you a status report by three.” She flipped her hair dramatically and disappeared among the crowd just before the bell rang.

 

•••

 

By two thirty she had fulfilled her promise. “Saved the theatre crowd for last. Got all the other boys in the school, and the cheerleaders, art farts, band geeks, and even the chess club.”

“We have a chess club?” Claire exclaimed with surprise, counting in her head the number of students Mary succeeded to test.

“It's clandestine and it's not chess.”

“Don't ask,” Darci advised. She took the horseshoe and immediately headed to Toby's locker to pass the torch. “Think you can handle the theatre kids?”

Toby scoffed, feigning offense. “Easy peasy. But.” He held up a pointer finger. “What about the teachers.”

“Mr. S,” she considered with a smile. “I mean, I think so… but, I don't know. He grades our papers, I don't want to upset him.”

“He'd only get upset if we're right.” He looked around and nudged her when he caught sight of the professor. “We could know for sure. Right now." He hesitated for only a second and then made like he would charge him. Darci grabbed a hold of the gaggletack.

“No no no, I don't want us to embarrass-"

He pulled back on the artifact. “You're just afraid to admit-”

“Toby pie-"

He relinquished the gaggletack, which Darci now held proudly. “You said you wouldn't call me that at school!” Toby spoke between clenched teeth. “Fine,” he said. He shrugged and relaxed his shoulders, his tone. Darci also relaxed. The second she did he snatched the horseshoe and threw it. Only her eyes could react, which opened wide as saucers.

Mr. Strickler stopped when the iron object clattered at his feet. Darci made like she was going to try to salvage their dignity, but Toby held her back. “Whoops. Slipped. Uh, mind picking that up for us, Mr. S?”

Mr. Strickler warily raised an eyebrow. “And waste such idle hands as your own, Mr. Domzalski?”

“Rope burn.” Darci chuckled to ease the awkward tension. “Coach Laurence really wore us out. Even my back is stiff now.”

Claire happened upon the horseshoe. She picked it up at first thinking that Toby dropped the precious artifact out of carelessness. She tried fabricating an excuse to justify a horseshoe in the school. “Here you go...” When her eyes met Toby's and Darci's, however, she immediately recognized their plan and her error. She tried quickly to recover. “...Mr. Strickler. Here's your horseshoe back.” She looked for his hands to force contact. They were folded behind his back.

He turned to face her as he spoke. Casually, like any normal person would. “Thank you, Ms. Nuñez. But that belongs to Domzalski.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Her apology was directed at Toby as she handed it back.

“Be careful what you do with your hands if you want to keep them functioning,” Mr. Strickler warned as he strolled to his office.

 

•••

 

The jock’s gestures and volume were unproportionately dramatic. He read from the script held inches from his face and nearly slapped the actress as he swung an arm out. “Shall I hear more, or shall I speak-”

_You have enough passion for the both of us. You were born for the part!_ Her memory was jolted with a clang.

“Who did that?!” Steve shouted to the dark corners of the auditorium, a hand clutching the side of his head.

“Steve? Are you okay-" Claire saw a hand stretch out from under the curtain to snatch the gaggletack.

Backstage she chased down Toby. “What was that for?”

“You know, I really thought he might be one, and I definitely didn't want to be alone with the guy if that were the case-"

“You could have waited for him to be backstage and actually talk to him or something.”

“Talk to him?” Toby looked at her sternly. “Did you know I can still fit in a locker? Steve proved it, that's how I know.”

“I know Steve can be a jerk, but you're no better if you think it's okay to throw a horseshoe at him. If you couldn't handle it, I could've.”

His shoulders slumped and his expression was downcast. “I don't regret it. But. I'll count us even and never do it again.”

Claire smiled at his resolve. “Did you get everyone else?”

“Almost everyone. I should take this with me to my dental appointment, and expose the definite changeling in our midst.”

 

•••

 

Claire carried the baby monitor in one hand and the book, A Brief Recapitulation of Troll Lore volume two, under her arm. Draal hummed in response to her returning to the basement in the evening after the parents left. “There is more to being a Trollhunter than reading history books and aimlessly swinging a blade.”

“Aimless? I'm never aimless-"

He scoffed. “You landed one hit on me in the arena. If the roles were reversed, it would have taken one hit to eliminate you, even if you weren't a fleshbag.”

“Hey, I saved you-"

“And I will teach you how to save yourself.” Claire followed the troll back up the stairs. Once on the landing he grabbed a tall lamp that caught his eye and immediately went for the backyard.

The pink sky was streaked with rays of gold that struggled from the crests of the mountains on the horizon, the clouds shades of baby blue and pastel purple. On the patio Claire propped the monitor on the textbook. Enrique rolled about contentedly on the screen.

Draal danced. His movements were fluid. Intricate. Forceful. He swung his weapon powerfully to pulverize his invisible enemies. She was so captivated by the way he conducted the lamp she didn't think to dodge until it was too late. She cowered under the lamp post that was stopped short just over her head. “The sword is an extension of your body, which is an extension of your eyes,” he explained. “Mimic my movements.” She recited the inscription and held out Daylight as Draal held the lamp. He showed her in what position to start, and she followed. He slashed forward, and she mimicked it. They held up their weapons to block, then to strike, then to parry.

“Good, now apply it.” He closed the distance between them. The metal of their weapons clashed and sparked as she tried to use each of the moves he demonstrated to her in rapid succession. He growled. “Fight like you're trying to kill me, Trollhunter.”

“I'm trying!” She grunted as she made another swing at him.

He didn't even need to use his weapon to deflect the blow, and instead leaned back away from her sword. “You are afraid to get your hands dirty, Trollhunter, but that is your hallowed obligation. It is your duty to dispatch the enemies of your loved ones so that they won't have to.” She stepped closer to land a hit, but still he deflected it. He then rolled to force her against the wall, and managed to pin her up against the side of the house with the pole of the lamp across her neck, her sword hand restrained. Her arm was gripped together with the lamp.

“Ouch,” she retorted.

“A real fight is never predictable, Trollhunter.” He smirked. “You have to expect the unexpected and learn to embody the armor, force it to do what you want.”

She glanced in the direction of Daylight and controlled her breathing. A hum could be heard. Daylight fizzled out and the grooves on her armor glowed as the light found its way to her other palm. The energy gathered and Daylight manifested. She tapped Draal in the chest with it. He immediately released her and laughed proudly at her accomplishment. She looked in wonder at her hands.

Her phone rang, and the armor dissolved to grant her access to her pocket. It was Darci.

“Claire! I think Toby is in trouble! He called just now, but I couldn't understand him, and he had a dental appointment, but my dad will put me in a cell if I try to leave-"

“I'll be right there, I'm on my way,” Claire assured before she disconnected. “Sorry, Draal, I gotta….” The baby monitor glowed from the corner of her eye. Enrique was curled up, cute as a cherub, sleeping.

“I'll protect him,” Draal assured.

“If he wakes up, you can give him a bottle, four scoops of formula for eight ounces-"

“He'll be fine. I promise.”

She looked worriedly at the monitor once more and then to her phone. She forcefully exhaled and dashed to the garage to get her bike.

 

•••

 

The aura of blue was still dissipating when she bolted into the dental office. There was a haze, and everyone in the room laughed hysterically. Half the room seemed to be occupied by half an AAARRRGGHH!!! dangling from overhead. “Claire bear!” Toby giggled from where he straddled the adjustable overhead lamp like a mechanical bull. He fell off. Blinky pointed and laughed.  Claire recognized every face except for the female troll. Her involuntary laughter was wicked, paused only for her to exclaim, “The Trollhunter! Die!” She giggled and leapt for Claire. Claire fell back, her armor clattered against the tanks strewn about in the corner. The changeling prepared to attack again, but Claire was quick to get in her feet. In precise, practiced movements Claire punched the changeling in the nose and affronted her with her sword, but her swings became wary. The overhead lamp from above the dentist's chair swung about and Claire was momentarily blinded. She felt her leg get yanked from beneath her and found herself sprawled on the floor. She tried to hurry to her feet once more but was slammed down against the vinyl tile. Her arms were pinned down and there was a weight on her chest. Through the haze and flashing light, the changeling trembled, loomed over her, was eager to kill her. She hissed like a venomous lizard and relished the moment before she could single handedly murder the Trollhunter. “Perish, you worm!” Her eyes were wide with zeal. Her tongue flicked about like an eel hungry for blood. Claire glanced in the corner. Toby's eyes were large with fright, yet he stood between Blinky and the changeling and desperately held out a lamp post as though it were a weapon.

_It is your duty to dispatch the enemies of your loved ones so that they won't have to._ The changeling reached for Claire's throat. With her freed hand she grasped the troll’s wrist and held it back. They wrestled for a second, the amulet glowing as it charged the armor. The changeling changed her tactic and reached back to grant herself momentum. Before she could strike, Daylight manifested in the Trollhunter’s empty hand, the tip aimed at the changeling's chest. Gladys didn't stop in time. She lunged for the kill, but the blade plunged through her.

She gasped. Claire scurried away from the her attacker and to her feet, between her enemy and her allies. The changeling looked down at her chest. The energy cackled as it zipped across the fissure in her torso. The charge steadily built up and arched across the rest of her body. She whimpered, and looked up helplessly at Claire. The brilliance from the magic momentarily blinded the witnesses and was followed by an explosion of force.

They blinked past the dust that slowly cleared. “There goes our proof,” AAARRRGGHH!!! grumbled.

“Oh my gosh, she's in my mouth!” Toby forgot to consider the dust on his hands as he tried to pat his tongue clean.

Claire exhaled, dejected. Her armor dematerialized. “I just killed the only evidence of changelings in Arcadia.”

“And my dental hygienist!” Toby looked incredulously at her before attempting to dust off his vest. The grey green soot didn't respond to his efforts.

Blinky perceived Claire swallow and tried to shift her perspective. “You finished the fight, Master Claire, and in self defense, for that matter.” He rest a hand on her shoulder. “Vendel may have his doubts, but we continue to have _our lives_. A fair bargain, I would say.”

Claire looked between him and AAARRRGGHH!!! “Just curious. What are guys doing here?”

“I thought it was possible that danger would come to any of you should you cross paths with the wrong changeling. The girls went home, and as Tobias still possessed the gaggletack, we followed him as a precaution.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! fell from the skylight and was finally able to pick up the set of teeth he'd been reaching for since the explosion. He playfully opened and closed the jaw as he spoke. “And curious.”

“About what?” Toby attempted to wipe the stubborn soot off his face.

“You humans have a concept that is quite foreign to us.” Blinky exhaled at Toby, who retched. “Oral hygiene.” He hummed. “Looks like we’re officially out of laughing gas. We should depart.”

“I have to head back home. I left a baby alone with a troll, which the fairy tale stories say never to do.” Claire left hurriedly and Blinky waited for AAARRRGGHH!!! to wrestle his way through the doorway. The large troll gave up, and instead stood on the dentist chair to reach the skylight he initially fell through. Toby waved around his arms emphatically. “Excuse me! Wait! Don't you guys have a magic artifact that can clean up this mess?”

Blinky tapped a finger to his chin. “Yes. I think it's called a “Tobias".”

Toby moaned. “I was afraid you'd say that.”

 

•••

 

Strickler waited precisely two minutes after her lunch period had begun to grant her the time to find somewhere secluded before he called the English professor from the nighttime college class.

“How's the boy's progress, Ms. Williams?”

“He babbles like a babe, but he's got the gizzards of a troll. You weren't mistaken about that part.”

“I'm never mistaken.”

The language professor chuckled. “Would you like to know what the changelings are saying about you?”

“I take no interest in gossip,” Strickler answered resolutely.

“They say you're raising yourself an heir. That you found a loophole.”

“I found a tool. Your job is to sharpen it, and I have just the whetstone.”

“Oh?”

He made a conscious effort to keep his breathing even. “Gladys Groe has been slain.”

There was silence for a moment. “Oh.” Another pause. Strickler waited for the changeling to process the purpose in his method of delivery. “You want the boy to see my heart bleed.”

“Sprinkle a few tears in for good measure as well.”

“Affirmative.” She added, “Have you even seen the boy since he's been admitted?”

He disconnected the line.

The changeling braced himself for another rendezvous with the son of The Skullcrusher.

The goblins, in an assembly line, passed along chunks of rust-tinged stone being fed through the plumbing under the exposed tile. The bridge was steadily, albeit slowly, being reassembled.

Strickler made his announcement to the troll. “I've just confirmed the worst. Gladys Groe has been slain.”

“Well, then the impure served her purpose. She already brought us the stones from Madagascar.” Bular waved a paw dismissively and turned away. “Her job was done.”

“I'd advise for you to care about those you employ,” Strickler glowered.

“Care?” Bular examined the partially constructed bridge. Though it was nearly complete, the fact remained that it was incomplete. “I only care to find the stones so my father can escape this wretched prison. Once we have them all, I will crush this troll pretender myself.” He clenched his fist. “And then, every flesh thing in this horrid world will know-" His voice trailed off at the sizzling behind him. A black ring constructed with dark stone and translucent crystals had been propped upright on a stack of crates. It hummed and sparked. The energy conducted by the stone shards amplified a charge until the entire surface of the green portal flashed blindingly. A brick dropped to the floor. Flashes like an electric current continued to arch across its smoking surface. Strickler picked up the brick and turned it over to read the name. “It appears Nomura has gotten her way. Another changeling has been chosen.” He laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and smirked as he considered the advantages they'd just acquired, his face lit up in green from the glowing font. “And look who it is.”

 

•••

 

Claire staggered down the stairs. Her legs trembled under her weight. Draal sniffed the air. “You smell rancid,” he commented. She said nothing. She approached him and rest her head on his chest, her face smeared with dull colored soot. He looked perplexed momentarily and calculated the sharp smells of adrenaline, stomach acid, and ash. It clicked. “Your first kill. This will pass.” She began to sob, her tears stained his chest like rain on stone. He covered her back with a large, warm hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Toby sighed heavily as he peered through the window in the Vespa storefront. Darci suggested that he go on bike rides to fight the depression. He didn't know what to do with himself now that he was out, so he tried window shopping, and that put him in front of Jim's favorite store, admiring the Vespa 3000 GTS Super. Jim was not great with remembering directions, but he would have had all the specs for this vehicle memorized, as well as how close he was to affording it, down to the penny. Toby tried to exhale the heaviness in his chest. His focus shifted to his reflection. He combed his fingers through his hair, realizing how unkempt he allowed himself to be.

A flurry of movement on one of the roofs caught his attention and he whipped around.

There was a goblin on the roof.

Holding a baby.

He rubbed his eyes in disbelief. It was still there, though it moved quickly, scurrying across the power line over the street to another building. Toby scrambled onto his bike and zipped after it, heart beating as fast as he could get his tires to turn. When the creature was out of sight, he followed the shadow. "Oh no," he panted dejectedly when the pursuit dead ended in an alleyway. “I'm hallucinating. It's the trollhunting stuff. A goblin wouldn't want a baby- why would a goblin want a baby,” he asked aloud to no one, except that he noticed a bunny plush on the ground. He picked up the, rabbit; it was worn, but not doing from neglect, so it had to have ended up here recently. This part was definitely not a hallucination. He looked back up to the rooftop, all other trace of the mirage completely gone.

 

•••

 

Claire fidgeted with the locker handle and opened the door to see those pleading changeling eyes looking at her. She shook away the memory. What went through the changeling's mind in the moment she stood with her chest torn open? Did she regret her zeal that cost her life? Did it possibly cross her mind that it wasn't worth it once she experienced the consequence? Her expression went from killer to victim as she stood helplessly before her own dust obscured Claire's vision.

She suddenly recalled the homework she'd neglected to finish for math class and made plans to catch up on it in one of her other classes. As she closed the locker door it was revealed that Steve waited on the other side, leaning an arm up on the lockers much like he had at the museum.

"Hey, I'm sorry for what I said the other day," he started.

"Apology accepted." She started to move past him but he continued.

"It's just, I felt like Lake thought he was better than me, and then he made a fool of me in front of everyone." His expression was somber, and his eyes avoided hers with an expression of embarrassment.

"He kept you from being kicked off the team, Steve."

"See? Everyone thinks so highly of him, and even though he moved schools, he was still cooler than me. And I guess that made me jealous." Her eyes widened with surprise. He shrugged with his next sentence. "I wanted to show you that I can be cool, too." At this he puffed up his chest and pointed a thumb at himself. 

"You don't have to prove anything, Steve, it's okay."

"I got us tickets to Papa Skull."

"No way."

Her quick response caused his eyes to light up with hope. "Do you wanna go?"

Could she balance being a Trollhunter, school, the play, and still make it to the concert? "Yes."

"Alright!" Steve punched the air and then reigned himself back in. "I mean, see you Friday! Okay if I pick you up at seven?" 

"Yeah!" He made a click sound as he smiled and winked at her with finger guns as he left for class. Friday. Friday. Didn't she have something after school?

 

•••

 

Students gossiped as they anticipated the bell, the teachers for the most part already in class preparing for lessons. Darci tucked away her phone as she headed to the bike rack to meet with Toby. “What's the matter, TP?”

He leaned heavily on the rack like the vehicles on either side of him. “So, you know how you told me I needed to get out more when I get upset about Jimbo?”

“Are you okay?”

“I don't know,” he moaned. “I hear his voice sometimes. Like he's just talking, not even stuff that makes sense. It's random, but I can hear him.”

“You're grieving,” she explained. “Your mind is trying to process that he's gone. It's okay-"

“It's not okay,” he cut her off. “I don't want to process anything. I want it to mean something. I want him to come back. And then-" he huffed and looked away. “I went on a ride and thought I saw a goblin with a baby. Am I going crazy? Is hallucinating part of grieving?”

Her eyes widened. “You saw what?”

“A goblin was running on the roof, holding something, it looked and sounded like a baby. I'm making it up, right? Just like with Jim-"

“You're not crazy, TP.” Darci looked at him with severity. “When Claire found out about changelings, she read up on them. They're not exactly switched at birth the way Blinky said, but that's when they're bonded to their familiar. Then the goblins use pinholes between worlds to steal the baby and switch it with a changeling.” She held up her fingers and pinched the air to show little invisible holes. 

“But, what happens to the baby then?”

“They're kept in the changeling nursery. Blinky says they can't get hurt at all or else the changeling can't take its shape anymore.”

Toby took his bag from by his feet and opened it to reveal the evidence of his suspected hallucination. “So it was real-”

“You have Suzy Snooze?” Toby jumped as Claire exclaimed her surprise. “My brother's bunny! I've been looking all over for it!” She took hold of the stuffed animal and gingerly dusted it off and squeezed the limbs to readjust the stuffing.

“You've been looking for this,” Toby repeated carefully. He looked at Darci, who shook her head sternly at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, he's been acting so weird without it. Where did you get it?”

“What kind of weird? Just for clarification, are we super sure that this is his? I mean, you could probably pick it up at, like, any store.”

“I think I'd know the stuffed bunny I grew up with.”

Mary ran up to them, panting. “Claire, I’m so sorry, but I can't babysit tonight. I can't. I really can't!” She wailed on the brink of a meltdown.

Claire almost had a melt down of her own. “You promised!  My parents have a work thing and the Papa Skull concert’s tonight.” She gestured at her chest. “Papa Skull! I, like, live in their shirt every day!”

“Sorry, but Dean finally asked me to a movie,” Mary swooned, “and then Hank invited me to ice cream! “Tight jeans" Hank! Love can't choose, Claire!”

“I can babysit!” Toby immediately slapped a hand over his treacherous mouth.

“Tonight? Really? You would?” Then Claire's expression dimmed. “Wait, have you ever babysat before?”

Darci stepped in to vouch for him. “Awe, c’mon! Just ask Chompski how he’s doing. A baby can't be worse than a gnome.”

“Oh my gosh, you are a lifesaver! Just come by my house at seven, no sooner. Thank you, Toby, thank you!”

The bell rang and she trotted to class. Darci folded her arms at him. “What? I have to know!”

She rubbed her arms. “He can't be, she would be devastated!”

“So we won't tell her until we know for sure,” he reasoned.

She sighed and deflated. “If you need me, call. Dad got super strict with me after the museum thing, so I can't sneak out unless it's a Trollhunter emergency. An emergency emergency.”

He tried to wave away her concern. “It's babysitting. I could be wrong about the changeling thing.”

 

 

•••

 

A lone drill hummed, the only sign of life in the college studio late at night. Mr. Strickler peered through the safety goggles that rest on his large nose as he smoothed the edges of a metal disk, controlling the speed of the bit with the pressure he applied to the pedal under his foot. The hum of the machine and the resistant metal paused at the melody of a ringtone. An untimely phone call was either a human or a changeling emergency, and given the time it was more likely to be the latter. Strickler examined the caller ID before he answered.

“Is this important, Moreau?”

A male's stern voice, softened with a French accent, answered. “The armory is missing some things. Leather armor, a pair of daggers, a set of throwing knives. I wasn't informed of a mission. Steiner didn't know anything, either.”

Strickler hummed thoughtfully to himself. “Not a mission, an experiment. Until further notice, you and Coach are dismissed from training the pupil.”

“Affirmative.” The call disconnected.

The professor held together the metal pieces of his project and considered their proportions. The blue prints were left in the room behind his bookshelf for safe keeping, so from memory he checked to see that it would make a convincing decoy. Though the boy may believe he was tasting freedom, it was Strickler who controlled the chaos.

 

•••

 

At the knock of a door, Claire called out to the guest. “Hey TP! Come on in.” Toby let himself inside, stashing the gaggletack in a side pocket on his bag. Claire busied herself with spoon feeding Enrique in his bouncer. “I put his routine up on the fridge. After playtime, you just need to put him down. He's a good sleeper.”

“On the fridge,” Toby parroted.

“Phone numbers are here for emergencies. Whatever you do, do not call my parents first.” She handed him post it notes along with the bowl of baby food.

“... they don't know you're going to the concert, do they?”

“Trollhunting isn't the first secret I've kept from them.” A motor rumbled as a vehicle pulled up to the house. “Oh, there's my ride. He's buckled in good. Besides, he'd rather play with his food than eat it. My parents are at some kind of fundraiser, so they won't be back until “late" late. What else am I forgetting?” She counted on her fingers. “He loves games. Peek a boo, hide and seek. What else?”

“It's cool, Claire. I've got this.” Toby puffed up his chest.

She stood at the mirror in the hall and adjusted her hair clips as she spoke. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge. And please don't leave Draal alone with him. You know he's got that blind spot, I don't want him to turn my brother into a pancake.” A horn honked outside. “I'm _coming_! Sheesh kebab.”

“Go have fun. This is the least I can do since you saved me from my dental hygienist.” Toby opened the door to usher her out. His jaw dropped when he saw her ride.

“What's up, my Juliet.” Steve casually leaned the Vespa 3000 GTS Super and pat at the empty seat behind him.

The bowl of baby food shook in Toby's hands. “You're going with _him_?!”

“He, um, bought the last tickets.”

“Like my ride, buttsnack?” Steve languidly pet the headlight. The new plastic squeaked. “Last on the showroom floor. Handles like a dream. No big deal.”

Claire buckled a helmet on and smiled to Toby. “Thanks for doing this, TP. You're my hero.” He stared after them as the shiny red Vespa zipped up the street.

He remembered the audition, the way Jim sagged as he watched Claire onstage, eyes far away like he was dreaming. _“Don't do this to yourself, Jimbo.  She's out of your reach. You're going to be moving.”_ Toby exhaled as he tried to break away from the memory. Jim should have been the one to take her out. Jim should have been the one with the Vespa. Jim should have been her Romeo. But he was replaced.

Toby shook away the dark thoughts and closed the door between himself and the tragic scene. He needed to discover if the baby had been replaced.

Draal peered out from the basement. “Is she gone?”

“Yeah, she's gone.” Toby pocketed the phone numbers and started for the horseshoe.

“Good!” Draal roared, and charged at the infant with raised fists. Toby panicked and dove in front of the baby.

“What are you doing?!”

Draal bellowed maliciously. “I'm making pancakes out of this impure!” The baby wailed at the threat. Toby gaped in horror and disbelief.  

“How did she know you were going to do this?! Why are you doing this?!”

“It's an impure! She would not have let me kill it while she was still here.”

“I can't let you do it, either! And how do you know?”

“I can smell it,” he growled, glaring at the baby.

“Maybe your nose is off. His diaper is dirty or something. Let's just use the gaggletack and we'll know for sure.”

“Spoken like a fleshbag. You couldn't smell a cimirean fruit if you stepped on it. Fine, we'll do this your way.”

Toby nodded sternly and immediately dove for his bag. He rummaged through compartments. “That's weird. It was just here.” He glanced warily at Enrique. “Hey, he was buckled in a minute ago. This is supposed to be childproof.”

“This is no child.”

“Alright, where did you hide it? Speak.” The baby babbled.

“I'm telling you, it's an impure.”

“What happened to my way?”

“Your way lost the gaggletack.”

“Then help me look for it!”

 

•••

 

The digitized sound of flames gave way to a boom and a splat. Darci yelled threats at her TV screen a she hammered buttons on her white custom controller. A melodic tune was barely audible over the sounds of gunshots and cyborg ninjas wailing and screaming. Darci answered her phone and held it between her shoulder and cheek as she played. “Hey Toby Pie. What do you mean you lost it?” She paused the game and shifted her focus to her phone. “I'll be there as soon as I can.”

 

•••

 

Javier smiled warmly at the councilwoman as she cut at her nopales and fajita beef. She chewed hard at the meat, her expression cross until her eyes met his. “What?”

“You're cute when you're mad.”

She rolled her eyes bitterly. “This isn't cute.”

“You work so hard, you're a week ahead.”

She sawed her frustration into the thin steak. “My whole schedule is a jumble now. I can't even remember what day it is, sometimes I get mixed up on the time of year, even. I forgot for a moment that school was going-"

“Hey,” he spoke softly. “You're too hard on yourself.” He watched her blink hard to keep away the tears and force down the self deprecating thoughts. “When we go next week, no one's going to care that you thought the fundraiser was today. And we're just going to enjoy a spontaneous date. It's been a while since we went out for fun.”

“I could have been preparing the paperwork for Monday's-"

“Hey. If you're not doing this for our family, then why are you doing it?”

She pouted. “I am-”

“Then let me have a little of your time. Claire's watching Enrique. Tomorrow's the weekend. Don't worry about work, don't worry about the fundraiser, don't even worry about Claire's grades. Our daughter is very bright and is ahead of her peers.”

Ophelia’s eyes watered. “Why would she break into a museum? What if she grows up to become a criminal?”

“She's a teenager. We expect too much of her and don't give her an outlet, so she found one.”

“You think I'm being too hard on her?”

“You're being too hard on yourself, too. If you don't let up, you'll rob a bank,” he joked. She nudged him playfully with her foot under the table. “I do think we should give her more slack. If she were able to drive herself to and from school, it would free up my schedule and I can do more with Enrique-”

“We can't afford another car right now,” Ophelia dismissed as she cut another bite. Javier answered with silence. “... no, absolutely not.”

“Vicente has one, it's going to fall apart in storage-"

“I am not letting her drive one of those death machines.”

“They save so much on gas. He can bring it with him when he comes over Sunday.”

She halted mid chew. “Why is he coming over Sunday?” Again Javier answered with silence. “Ay dios mio- I told you my whole schedule was a jumble!”

“Don't worry about it right now. We're on a date. Where do you want to go next?”

She smirked playfully at him. “There's that new place up the street that sells boba tea.”

“What's that? Is that the thing with the bland chewy things in it?”

“They're tapioca pearls.”

“They're disgusting, I don't get why they're so popular. But if that's what you want to do, we'll do it.”

“Thanks, Javi.”

 

•••

 

“Can't you do your sniffing thing and help me find him?”

“The whole den reeks of him, you know.” Draal stood defiantly with his arms crossed, giving no clues to the whereabouts of the wandering baby, whose disembodied giggles seemed to reach them from various points throughout the house as Toby tried to chase him down.

Toby sighed, exasperated. “I take it back, your nose is not off. Your way is better. My way lost the gaggletack. Now will you help me?”

Draal smirked and started to sniff at the air, his nose ring swaying as he did so. He frowned at the ceiling and followed the trail. Toby looked in disbelief. “You smell the baby on the ceiling?”

“Are we doing this my way or not,” the troll bellowed.

A phone rang. “It's Darci,” Toby exclaimed. He continued on the phone as he stepped outside and toward the woods adjacent to the house. From the bushes hid Darci, Blinky, and AAARRRGGHH!!!

“Brought the gaggletack,” Blinky announced as he handed it to Toby. “Now, where's the child?”

Toby shrugged. “In the house, hopefully?”

“Are you not babysitting? I don't understand how the baby can elude you if you were rightfully sitting on him.”

Toby looked to Darci as he gestured at Blinky. “Claire is totally right. Never leave a baby alone with a troll.”

“Isn't Draal alone with him now?” Darci's words encouraged him to run back into the house, but he stopped at the door to struggle with the handle.

“He locked the door!”

“Draal?” Darci followed him to the porch and tried the door herself.

“No, the baby!” She raised an eyebrow at him before she stepped off the porch and looked up to the second floor.

“We could climb to Claire's room.”

“Climb? Sure, why not pole vault while we're at it.” He banged on the door. “Draal, can you let us it?”

They heard the handle rattle as it was tested. Then they heard the cracks of wood splintering and the entire doorway was cleared. Draal stood with his eyes wide with surprise and a door suspended by the handle pinched between his two fingers. Toby despaired. “You broke their door!”

“We could have climbed,” Darci reminded him as she stepped across the threshold. Her ears pricked up as she heard the crying of a baby upstairs and she took the steps two at a time. Toby followed her and left Draal to force the door back into its place.

“Enrique!” Toby's heart softened at her familiarity with the baby. She took the blond baby boy into her arms and he was immediately soothed, consoling himself by bunching the material from the shoulder of her shirt to suck on.

Toby shook away the sentiment. “That is not Enrique,” he reminded her.

She ignored him and cooed at the infant. “Is da big, bad Toby scawing you?”

Toby took a deep breath in preparation of what he was about to do next and the withdrew the gaggletack he stowed away in his back pocket. The baby's eyes widened and the infant began to squirm and cry.

“Toby, what are you doing?”

“If he's not a changeling, it's not going to hurt him!”

“You're scaring him!”

“Because he has something to be scared of!”

“Yeah, you!” The baby squirmed and writhed away from the gaggletack and Darci struggled to keep a hold of him. It took several attempts and a few falls, but Toby managed to hold it out just as the baby nearly slipped away from Darci. She maintained a hold on him, but in her hands cackled energy and the soft skin of the baby became stony hard and around its scruff grew prickly fur. He went limp at the realization of his defeat, and then turned his head to his captor. His bile yellow eyes with red, serpentine slits were the size of tennis balls and focused on Darci. She screamed at the monstrosity. She instinctively threw him up in the air and made a mad dash to the far side of the room. “That is _not_ Enrique,” she reasoned aloud.

Toby held his arms out to either side defensively as he stepped between her and the creature under the blanket in the crib. It bulged this way and that until a large stone nose and a maw of pointed teeth poked out from beneath the fabric. “Stupid flesh thing,” the creature swore at them. He leapt unto the rail of the crib and from there spun off the lamp shade to propel himself out of the room.

 

•••

 

After dinner the couple strolled up the street on the way to the cafe. The sparse vehicles kept up a melody in the otherwise quiet night in town, accompanied only with the soft steps of the couple's shoes on the cement. A cat hissed as it darted past them and they halted. Ophelia’s head turned to glance down the alleyway. She changed directions and started to walk. “Mami, where are you going?”

“I hear a kid back there,” she called over her shoulder, already reaching for her phone.

“You're not their mother,” Javier sighed. She continued marching until, to her surprise, the device in her hand went off. She answered.

“Hello? … is that so? Thank you, I'm on my way.” She turned back and marched toward Javier with that same tension she harbored when she was called by the police about the museum incident.

“What is it?”

“Apparently, we have our own child to worry about,” she huffed, dialing to make another call.

 

•••

 

Toby halted midrun to answer his phone. He tried to keep his voice even despite the recent exertion. “Oh, hey Claire. How's the concert?”

“My parents just called. They're coming back early. I'm leaving now.”

“No no no, don't-"

“Who's there? What's that music?”

The frog like creature called out to Toby from the radio where he turned up the dial. “Tell her how you were elbow deep in me dookie-bin!” He yelped and leapt as Draal’s meaty fist came down on the radio and crushed the instrument, halting the music with popping from the stereo speakers and the shatter of plastic.

The voice from the phone called out accusingly. “Are you having a party?”

“Uh, Enrique needed some music to help him sleep,” he lied.

Darci squealed and glass shattered. “Is Darci over there?! She said she couldn't leave the house- _what is going on?!_ ”

“Gotta go!” Toby disconnected the line and stared in space. The parents were coming. Claire was coming. The house was destroyed and a changeling was on the loose. His focus was pulled from the oncoming anxiety attack with a familiar crunch and he looked to the newly formed hole on the wall where AAARRRGGHH!!! peered in. “Their door! What is with you trolls and breaking doors!”

Blinky stepped in between AAARRRGGHH!!! and the door frame. “We are here to… um…” his demeanor went from one of valor to one of embarrassment, “we're here to help.”

The changeling bellowed from the open refrigerator- turned- jungle- gym. “I don't remember inviting these two to dinner! First course, frozen peas!” He took a carton and emptied the contents into his mouth. He clambered to a higher roost from the top of the fridge and projected the ammunition so it rained down on anyone not cowering behind the counter or makeshift shield.

“Don't make me climb up there, foul beast! -my eyes, my eyes! Green balls of madness!” Blinky wailed as he sheltered behind the kitchen island with the other humans. Draal leaned from the wall of the kitchen to chuck an assortment of home decor at the sniper, who answered by elevating himself to the light fixture and switching targets to Draal before he ducked again. Toby desperately searched around as he evaluated the situation and then his eyes lit up.

“Hey, AAARRRGGHH!!! I need you to be my wingman-"

“Wingman?” The troll answered from beneath a plate that was only large enough to guard his eyes.

“My partner, my compadre, my comrade in arms. We've got to work together. I'll draw the fire, and while he's distracted, you take advantage, got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

Toby ran from cover. “It's hailing peas! I hate peas!” He ran as far as he could manage, the assailant focusing fire on him as he went. He fell to the floor, mumbling in response to the continued onslaught. The changeling was relentless and stopped only when a massive stone fist crushed him against the ceiling. At the force, his eyes bulged and drifted to opposing directions. He wheezed and fell back onto a platter held up by AAARRRGGHH!!! “Way to go Wingman!” Toby introduced the troll to a fist bump, which the troll marveled at.

“They're here,” Draal warned as his ears picked up the sound of tires on the driveway. He slipped away into the basement. Darci wished Toby luck and snuck out hurriedly through the opening that remained of the back door.

“I suggest we make our egress,” Blinky explained as he took the changeling.

“Woah, I'm supposed to be babysitting it!” Toby snatched the leg of the monster.

“And I need the proof for Vendel!”

“And I need to not be split in two!”

The sound of the car door shutting halted the dispute. “You need to leave now,” Toby insisted.

“With haste,” Blinky agreed. AAARRRGGHH!!! followed behind and forced the door back in place. Backwards.

“Claire, we're home,” Javier called out. Ophelia’s eyes scrutinized the marks along the walls as they made their way to the kitchen. They halted at the doorway, their eyes wide as they evaluated the destruction. All the cabinet doors had been thrown open, some of the shelves cleared of dishes and ingredients. The fridge couldn't be closed with all the spilled food and containers that blocked the door, and the microwave lay cock-eyed on the floor.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Nuñez. I'm Toby. The babysitter.”

It was at that moment that Claire hurried in and then instantly regret what she saw, her face contorted in disbelief and horror. “Fudgenuckles!”

The baby cooed, babbled, and blew raspberries innocently, having a grand time anticipating someone getting roasted. Toby considered his words. There was no saving his reputation with the Nuñez parents, and he had to warn Claire. “He really gets into the game of horseshoes, who knew!”

At that, Claire's eyes dimmed and her face paled. Without a word, the parents instructed with their demeanor that Toby leave immediately, and he obeyed, passing the baby to Claire.

“I'm going to lay him down,” she offered. Ophelia was too angry to put together words, and Javier communicated to her with a hand on her shoulder until their daughter was out of earshot.

 

•••

 

Claire played with Enrique in the nursery. He babbled and gurgled and clapped his hands playfully. She tickled the rolls of fat around his under arms and he squealed. Her heart sank. Enrique should have belly- laughed.

Out of the (flash of) blue she fully equipped herself and pinned down the baby, trapping it under the groove along the blade of her sword. “Cut the act.”

In retaliation, the infant sizzled in energy and a grizzly monster took his place. “Don't you cut nothing,” the changeling retorted.

“Where is the bridge?”

“What bridge? London bridge? I hear it's falling down.” She replaced the blade with an armored hand and squeezed. “Ow! Fleshbags, no sense of humor.” Still dissatisfied with his answer, she squeezed harder, and his eyes bulged as he wheezed. “Give me a break, I don't know anything! It's me first day!”

“You're useless,” she decided, and maintained her grip on him. She let Daylight dissolve to free her hand so she could open the window.

“Okay, okay, okay! But you can't tell anyone I told you. I got a pretty sweet deal going here. If the boss man hears I squealed, he'll feed me to Bular!”

She released her grip on his throat and clutched him by the scruff instead. “Bular is working with someone else? Who is he working with?”

Simultaneously there was a click of a door knob turning, a spark of electricity, and a hum of magic. It was immediately disguised by cooing and giggles as the baby wiggled playfully in Claire’s unarmed arms. Javier looked in. “Claire,” he called to her. She somberly lay the baby in his crib. “I spoke to your mother and she's agreed that depending on the state of the house when she wakes up, she may decide not to cancel our plans this weekend.”

Claire went to him and hugged him. “Thank you, papa.”

He returned her embrace. “If you need to talk, I'm here for you. I don't understand what you're going through, but I love you and I want you know that you can come to me for anything you need.”

“Thank you papa.” She pecked his cheek. “I'll start cleaning.”

 

•••

 

The geode cringed in the corner at the descent of the human adolescent. He snorted so his piercing swung from his nose. He listened for her steps as she stopped in the middle of the basement floor.

He took a quiet breath before he spoke. “I'm sorry.”

She was quiet a moment. He could practically hear her fists squeeze. “You said you would protect him. You promised.”

“I know,” he winced.

He watched her in the dark as she trembled in place. Then the strength in her legs gave out and she dropped to her knees. “I want him back,” she whimpered.

Nervously he considered what to do. He didn't understand human emotions. He felt shame at violating his oath. He had no means to remedy the situation. What would he have done if he was the Trollhunter? He considered her as she kneeled in defeat. “The fight isn't over, Trollhunter.” She cringed angrily at his words, but said nothing. “It is your duty to protect the world of trolls, but I have sworn to protect your family. If the time comes where the bridge to the Darklands is opened, I myself shall go in to rescue your brother.”

“I can't ask you to do that, Draal.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I failed to uphold my oath. I must make this right, on my father's honor.”

“But we can't let the bridge be opened,” she struggled to convince herself.

“Then I shall find some other way to retrieve him.”

“You can't, Draal.” She got to her feet. “It's too late and it's too dangerous. Gunmar can't be released and there's no other way in. And even if you did get in, his army is there. My brother is stuck there, forever.” She turned to stomp back up the stairs. “We can't fix it.”

He shut his eyes as she slammed the door behind her. He took a deep breath and hung his head in defeat.


	9. Chapter 9

The sky was calm like the ebb of a wave before a surge, and the warnings of birds were deceptively chipper. The smell of fresh dew was distorted with the odor of rot. Leaves crunched under polished leather shoes. Mr. Strickler shuffled through stones and soil as he tread, and paused to pick up a black shard of stone.

“This is a scale isn't it,” he accused the shadows. “You've summoned a Stalkling.”

“To do what we should have long ago,” the shadows answered, growling from the mouth of the tunnel.

“Stalklings are as uncontrollable as they are unpredictable,” the changeling scolded. “We agreed that any attempt on the girl's life would bring scrutiny.”

“Which is why I summoned the stalkling,” Bular countered. “I'm sick of hiding in shadows while this fleshbag stumbles closer and closer to my father's bridge. When she finds her prey alone, no one will ever see or hear from the Trollhunter again. Lest they find her rotting bones.” Bular looked up at the ominous form that screeched at the intruders. He sniffed and snorted. The stench of goblins was unpleasant. He withdrew back to the tunnel, tired of the company of the changeling leader.

Warily, a goblin scaled the wall after the brute passed and announced itself to Strickler.

“Sleeping in, is he? Wake him after I leave,” he instructed. The goblin nodded once and slipped back into shadows.

 

•••

 

Claire examined her lipstick in the mirror before she frowned at the creases beneath her eyes.  She had one day to take a break from trollhunting. She pleaded with Blinky to let her sleep through training and convinced him that she needed to celebrate with her family that she hadn't died yet. It helped to educate Blinky on how birthdays were celebrated in Mexican culture.

She answered the door to Mary and Darci. “Mama, they're here!”

“Don't be gone too long,” Ophelia reminded her before Claire went for ice cream with her friends, leaving the parents to prepare for the party.

A rickety pick up truck pulled up to the front of the house and honked. Claire cried out joyfully. “Tío!”

“Uncle Vincent,” the girls called out. Claire ran to the truck to greet the driver.Ophelia audibly groaned,  and she and Javier went out to greet his brother.

Tío Vicente had his own idea of what a child needed for a proper upbringing that starkly contrasted her parents: exposure. One year it was a slingshot, another year it was a few rounds at the shooting range, and his famous recipe for eggnog was the secret reason for the rosy glow in Claire's cheeks during the holidays. He embraced her warmly, the kid of hug that could melt a snowman. “Buenos dias, chiquita! Look at all those grey hairs! Is no one else here for the party yet?”

Ophelia approached and greeted Vicente politely before giving him orders on preparing inside for the party before the rest of the guests arrived. Claire's father embraced him and offered coffee as he followed his wife inside. Before joining the adults, Tío Vicente waved the girls to the back of the pick up. He dropped the gate and removed a tarp to reveal a rickety moped. Claire's mouth was agape. “You're old enough to drive now, right hija?”

Darci was the voice of reason that whispered sharply. “You don't have a license,” she reminded Claire. But what she couldn't overcome was that unspoken bond between an uncle that wanted to give his niece the best he could offer, and that child’s hunger for liberty.

“You're uncle is the best,” Mary instigated. She ran to get her bike prepared for escape. Darci, knowing she was losing, and not eager to be left behind to explain to the councilwoman that her daughter was breaking the law, again, followed suit. Vicente gave Claire a helmet and the key. He showed her how to shift the gears so that once she was out of earshot she could switch the vehicle from neutral and take off. “I'll distract your mother. Don't crash,” he winked. She ran alongside her new vehicle up the street with her friends nearby on their bikes.

“Your mom is never going to let us hang out with you,” Darci scolded. She rode her bike slowly alongside Claire and her Vespa. Mary remained in earshot, swinging the tire of her bike this way and that.

“It's my birthday. I live my life under my mom's thumb, and I could die any day at the hands of a Gumm Gumm. Life is too short to turn down a gift from my tío.”

“You're wicked awesome tea-oh,” Mary contributed. “I wish I had an uncle that cool!”

“I think we're far enough," Claire suggested. The girls stopped themselves, each propping up their bikes with a foot while Claire worked with the ignition.

Darci eyed it warily. “Is that thing even road worthy? What if you get a citation? And your mom finds out?”

“Then I'll move in with Blinky and commit to trollhunting full time.” The engine turned. Her face lit up in a dangerous smile. She turned the handle ever so slightly and it crawled in response. Little by little she fed it, and its gusto increased. Mary and Darci pedaled harder to stay on par with her.

Mary was as enthused about the gift as she would have been if she was the one who received it. “How fast can it go?”

“I dunno. Meet me at the ice cream shop and we'll see!” At that she looked both ways for traffic, gunned it, and turned the opposite direction. Darci called after her in disagreement before turning the blame on Mary.

As Claire crossed the bridge, a shadow passed over her, too low for a plane but too big for a bird. She permitted her eyes to skirt the upper parts of her vision briefly.  She decided it was nothing of consequence and shifted focus back to the road. Fresh air of the woods greeted her on her expedition. There was something really sophisticated in controlling a motorized vehicle, she decided. And then an unsophisticated noise ruined the moment. It wasn't the smooth rumbling of the newer model that caught up that ruined it. It was the not-smooth conversation starter coming from the driver. “What's up, my Juliet? You liked my ride that much you had to get your own? You know, I've got room for two.”

A shadow passed over the drivers again. “Steve, now is not a good time.” She kept glancing at the sky and in the side view mirror. There were glimpses of something she couldn't explain yet. It set her on edge, though she wondered if it might be the guilt of driving illegally. 

“When would be a good time. Next Friday?”

“You know, Steve, I had fun but I really can't repeat what happened. I need to focus on my studies and on rehearsal, and…” It was in her mirror now. She gasped and choked the throttle.

Steve increased his speed with her.  “It's cool, we can practice our lines together, rent a room from the library-"

“I really don't want anything to do with you.” Her panic blurted out the words, wary for the sky, but it was true. It wasn't his fault that she was grounded for lying about looking after her brother to go to a concert. It wasn't his fault her brother was replaced with a changeling. But there was only so much she could handle, and being polite to Steve was about to drop off the priority list to be replaced with getting away from the flying monster as soon as possible.

The dark form passed over them again. Steve was so incessant he didn't notice that he'd drifted into the wrong lane until almost too late, and Claire didn't notice in time to warn him. A car approaching from the opposite lane honked. He nearly clipped it head on, but managed at the last second to veer to the side, then over corrected and went headfirst into a tree.

Claire prepared to stop, until she glimpsed the swooping creature in the rearview. She careened. It was terrifying to hear the proximity of the predator and not be able to see it, helpless to surrender focus on keeping a motorized vehicle upright and mobile.

But then she saw it. Not far ahead and drawing swiftly closer was something like a stone lizard-bird. She instinctively braked, disrupting its calculations, momentarily grounding it so that it could claw at her, scratching the Vespa and her helmet. She gunned it again, preventing its talons from closing around her. She hadn't noticed in the tussle that she'd already drawn the amulet from her pocket. “For the glory-"

A dark blur fell from a overhanging tree onto the scruff of the beast. The gangly gargoyle screeched like tires burning to grip asphalt, and dove for the trees. The sound of wood splintering continued for a distance, followed  eventually by a screech of victory.

It was quiet again. The Vespa slowed to a crawl and hummed under her. She relived the last instants of her life and then came to. She made an anonymous call to the emergency line to report the accident and went to cheek on Steve. He was in a strange position the way his legs draped over the handlebars, but his moans assured her that he was conscious.

“Are you okay?”

“Pfffffffffffffft. Totally fine, Juliet.” The nickname solidified her decision to get out of there before an officer asked for an account of the gargoyle and to see her non-existent license.

“Good to hear. Help is coming, don't go anywhere.”

 

•••

 

“Ah, Vendel! Just the troll we've been looking for!”

“Don't stop looking on my account.” The elder troll had been careful to stay away from the scholar with the dangerous mouth, preferring to buy his own copy of the manual of monsters rather than borrow from the library. So much for that plan.

“But it is imperative that you look upon this!”

Vendel, reluctantly turned back, rolling his milky eyes. AAARRRGGHH!!! held out a small- to- him bag and delicately removed its contents with a pinch of his fingers. “Easy on the scruff!” the captive protested, a squirmy small troll with too-large eyes and a larger mouth. He adjusted himself on all fours onto the arm of the large troll. He glared at the leader of Trollmarket. “And what are you staring at, grandpa?  Have you never seen a changelin’ before?” His narrowly slitted, wide yellow eyes took in the radiance of the city around him. “So, this is Trollmarket,” he marveled.

“A changeling,” Vendel observed aloud, incredulous.

Blinky proudly wagged his finger. “You called me crazy, but who's the mad troll now! Behold, I have proof!”

Vendel hurriedly shoved the trio to the side so as to hide them. “Put that thing away! What are you trying to do, incite a panic?”

From the tight grip of AAARRRGGHH!!!’s fist the tiny creature retaliated. “‘Ey! I'm only here because you promised me socks to eat.”

“And you'll get them,” Blinky assured.

“They better be Argyll.” The small green critter was shoved into the bag. An arm stuck out to gesture pointedly. “And smelly!”

Blinky put talk of the bargain aside for later. “Do you believe me now? Changelings, therefore bridge.”

“Bridge, therefore panic. Have you heard nothing I've said?” Vendel himself heard nothing as AAARRRGGHH!!! turned around in concern, holding the suddenly empty bag out in front of himself. “For once you're right. And the horror of it. Threat of Gunmar’s exile right over our heads, and all Trollmarket has to protect it is a handful of human girls.”

“You can trust the Trollhunter. Her strength, cunning, and compassion will not waver in the face of great danger!”

“Blinky, I need your brain!” The aforementioned girls approached, winded.

Blinky frowned at the human phrase. “It remains within my skull for the duration of your use, correct?”

Claire gestured with her hands the outlandish thing she was about to describe. “There was a huge troll bird, like a gargoyle with a beak with teeth and claws.”

“Stalkling,” AAARRRGGHH!!! supplied, still looking for the missing changeling.

“Very nasty,” Vendel elaborated.

Blinky covered his mouth with two of his hands. “Stalkling?”

“Stalkling? It was flying in broad daylight. I thought trolls turned to stone in daylight!”

“Stalkling are one of the only species of troll immune to the effects of sunlight.” Vendel held out the book he'd recently purchased, opened to the page of a monochrome depiction of a flying creature.

Claire shook her head at the picture. “Is this supposed to be an abstract, because that doesn't come close to doing justice to how terrifying this thing is.”

“That's because the unlucky few who are caught alone with it never live long enough to depict it.” He tucked the book under his arm, pondering. “I'm curious. How is it that you are not disembowelled?”

“That too, there was something that jumped onto its back from the trees, and it took off into the forest.” Blinky and Vendel looked at each other and laughed. “I'm serious!”

Blinky stifled his laughter and probed politely. “How big was it? Could it have been another changeling?”

“I couldn't tell, they were wearing a hooded cape, and it all happened so fast.”

“Who or whatever it was had a death wish, then,” Vendel dismissed.

Mary piped up. “Couldn't it be, like, someone who controls the stalkling? Like an animal trainer or something.”

Again Blinky and Vendel looked to each other before both bursting into laughter. Vendel continued the lesson. “Summoning a stalkling is one thing. Controlling it is impossible. And the only predictable thing about a stalkling is that once it marks its target it, well, stalks it till death.”

“... so I have a stalker troll bird now,” Claire deflated.

“Fear not,” Blinky consoled. “As long as you are not alone, you will remain unharmed.”

“How alone are we talking? ...Blinky?”

“Why? Is that problematic?” His eyes passed between her two companions. “You seem quite social.”

“- is that NotEnrique?” AAARRRGGHH!!! smiled bashfully as he squeezed the changeling in a fist for lack of a better vessel. “How did you manage to kidnap my not baby brother?”

Blinky steepled his hands together. “You see, it's his nap time, and Vendel wouldn't-"

“I am aware of his schedule. What he is not aware of is that numerous relatives are going to try breaking into the nursery to coo over the baby and he can't be missing.”

NotEnrique visibly gulped. It had been only three days and his cover was blown and his sister hated him. What a defective changeling he turned out to be.

 

•••

 

Fortunately Dr. Lake was so heated over the topic that she didn't perceive Mr. Strickler’s eyes skirt the sky overhead.

“Who does that? He couldn't wait one more day to say, “I had an affair, I'm leaving?” It was so out of the blue, I don't know what I did wrong! And Jim, he didn't deserve that, especially from his father. And in his birthday! That's supposed to be his special day.” Barbara stopped herself to wipe an eye and adjusted her glasses. “I'm sorry, I did it again, going on about-"

“You're grieving,” Mr. Strickler consoled. He reached for her hand across the table and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Is it going to be like this every time his birthday comes around? If I had never let Jim go-”

“You didn't deserve any of this, either.”

As head of the Order, he knew exactly what happened, not because he had known Lake senior, but because there was a procedure. James Lake Sr likely thought he could quit the Order and try to have a normal, human life. As punishment for investing in a family, a violation of the rules, the Order intervened to sever the ties permanently. A changeling agent would act as a mistress of a fabricated affair to force division between the rogue agent and the taboo family unit. But there was not a procedure for a legitimate descendant, as such a thing should be impossible for a changeling.

Barbara relinquished her grip on her teacup to wipe her nose with a tissue, savoring the warm touch of his hand on hers. “Thank you, Walter. I don't know what I would do without you.”

He couldn't bring himself to respond immediately. Lying had been second nature to him all his life, yet suddenly it took effort, so he altered his method. “You're a strong woman, and you did a fine job raising him. If there's anything that I can do to make this easier for you, I'm here.”

“Again. Thank you, Walter. It means a lot to me just to have someone to talk to.” She smiled at their hands. Tears ran again. “I should go clean up, I'm sure my makeup is running.”

“Is it? I couldn't tell past your radiant beauty.”

She covered her mouth as she laughed halfheartedly and gave his hand one more squeeze before she went to the ladies room.

When the professor was left alone at the table outside the cafe, a menu tugged at his pants leg. He looked down to see glowing eyes peering up at him from below the laminated paper tent. “Report,” he instructed Fragwa.

“Waka sa chooroo.”

Strickler smirked. “Of course he would. Make sure he does not discover what she is. To him, she must remain ordinary.” Fragwa saluted him and scurried up a nearby gutter to disappear.

 

•••

 

Claire opened the window and curled up at the windowsill. She couldn't see the stars very well, just enough to recognize the common constellations. She thought she could still hear the creature’s wings flap. She just wanted one day to pretend she was a normal human, and instead death was waiting to catch her alone.

Claire glanced up the street and a small motion in the trees caught her attention. Was that the same hooded figure from that morning? Goblins scurried about at the person's feet, then they altogether slinked into the shadows and out of view.

“What man art thou, that, thus be screened in night so stumblest on my council?” The hooded figure didn't send the goblins after her, which seemed odd. Perhaps they were waiting for the opportunity to snatch her amulet. But then, what did it benefit for them to steer the stalkling from attacking her? What side of this feud were they on?

Having a stalkling and a Goblin King watching her every move made her feel vulnerable and kept sleep at bay. Afraid to be by herself, and to be literally torn from her bed, she took her pillow and went to NotEnrique’s room.

At her presence, the changeling switched to his troll form. “Hey, what's the big idea?”

“What? A big sis can't get her baby brother a bottle in the middle of the night? What world do you come from.” She reclined onto the rocking chair and adjusted the pillow to brace her neck.

“It's about that Stalkling, ain't it.”

“Maybe it's about you sneaking off at night.”

“What? I wouldn't-"

“Are you really going to finish that sentence?” He looked around to avoid eye contact, and seeing the stuffed animal, got an idea. “Did you want to borrow bunny Suzy?”

She smirked at him. “You can keep her.” He shrugged, feigning indifference, and curled up with an arm around the toy.

Eventually she drifted to sleep. The ache in her neck woke her a few times, and in her groginess she saw Enrique peacefully asleep in his crib. At first her heart would warm with familiarity. Then her memory would be triggered, and though she felt a pang of sadness, there was comfort in the changeling's company. At least the creepy troll didn't sneak off. Maybe something kept him. She fell asleep before another thought could formulate.

 

•••

 

“How did it go with your mom?” Mary asked.

Claire answered as she took books from her bag and stacked them on her desk. “On the plus side, I can ride my bike to school now. She agreed that I was independent enough to go by myself. Bad news is that she doesn't trust my on a Vespa, so she won't enroll me for drivers ed until after I'm 18, unless my dad changes her mind.”

Mary glanced around warily to be sure their classmates weren't eavesdropping. “What are you going to do about the troll bat thing?”

“I don't know. Find a flamethrower and lure it into the woods to barbeque it when it finds me?”

“I don't think you can barbeque a troll. It might find it ticklish.”

Strickler looked through his notepad to check the days agenda and glimpsed up at Claire, who herself regarded her notebook absentmindedly. “Happy belated birthday,” he addressed.

She snapped to. “Thank you.” His glance settled briefly at the empty desk beside Toby, wearing an expression she didn't quite understand, but then he resumed with class.

 

•••

 

The bell rang. Claire tried to match Toby's slow pace as she packed her things to catch him on his way out.  In the courtyard she called his name. He turned his attention to her, expression surly with regret as he considered the last time they spoke. She’d ignored his texts since after he babysat and Darci had since scolded her for it.

“Jim is not replaceable,” she stated.

He gawked momentarily. “What? I mean, yeah I know that-"

“I didn't go to the concert with Steve for romantic reasons. And trust me, Steve could never replace Jim. It's just that with juggling saving trolls and keeping up my grades and the play and… losing a friend… I wanted to get away from it all for a little bit. But it's not something I can run from.” She exhaled.  “And, I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm still  trying to deal with having my baby brother kidnapped. I know it wasn't your fault.”

Toby reached for his comfort stash and offered a Nougat Nummy. “Last one,” he smiled softly. She realized her eyes were starting to water. 

“Keep it. I know losing Jim was hard on you. How are you handling it, by the way?”

Toby swallowed, clearly still fighting tears. “It was his birthday yesterday.”

Her eyes grew wide with the news. She wasn't sure what she felt, now that she knew after the fact that she had the same birthday as Jim. “I had no idea.”

“It's okay. Blinky says I have a knack for finding changelings and thinks I need a troll guard, so AAARRRGGHH!!! is my roomie now. I'm probably going to skip rehearsal and play games with him tonight.”

She nodded in understanding and the bell prompted them to head their separate ways to class.

 

•••

 

During lunch, the AP history teacher locked himself away in his office. He had his responsibilities, an endless to do list. Scharbach would arrive that night with the eye stone. His charge was unknowingly chasing after the Trollhunter, whose identity must remain secret. There were other things the teacher could have been doing, but he felt the need to check that Barbara was doing okay. Perhaps he felt something resembling remorse for causing her the emotional pain she was suffering, he considered. If he helped her through it, perhaps it would negate the evil he'd done.

As Strickler spoke with her on the phone about her son's belated birthday, a ceiling tile shifted aside. It was one of the paler goblins, but he could never remember if it was the something gumbo or the freezer burned one. He never cared to learn their names, nor did he have any need to. He snapped a finger and pointed down in a general area beside himself. The goblin took the gesture literally and dropped from the ceiling onto the floor beside him. Strickler bid the doctor a farewell before disconnecting. 

“Where is our wanderer now?”

“Waka cha mean-da.”

“I see. I presume he skipped breakfast?”

“Graska.”

“Here, make sure he gets this.” He dropped a cup of applesauce into the goblins open palms, and it scurried up the bookshelf back to the hole in the ceiling.

 

•••

 

Spearmint Gumbo slid aside the ceiling tile and looked about the locker room menacingly. When it was satisfied, it gripped the cavity in the ceiling from either sides with its feet and eased itself down with a bulk package of Nougat Nummies in its hands. It moved slowly, cautiously.

“Waka cha.”

It yelped at the voice of one of its kind and lost its grip. It fell flat on its back on top of the lockers, package braced to its chest with all four limbs. “Wa kara cha!”

“A mean sa,” Eyebrows retorted from overhead, poking its head through the hole. It too evaluated the environment before doubling the population of the locker room.

Spearmint Gumbo pointed over its head and backwards to the locker immediately beneath it. “Da sa.”

“A gree!” Eyebrows swung down and balanced itself upside down by its feet so that it could reach the the combination lock. It fidgeted with the knob. “Ca ching,” it praised as it swung on the opening locker door. Spearmint Gumbo grunted as it flipped the box of candy into the locker. It shut the locker door, not taking into account Eyebrows toes. “Waa na na na,” it whimpered after it plopped onto the floor, digits curled. At a sound, both goblins leapt into action and scurried back up through the ceiling and slid the tile back in place.

Toby trudged into the locker room behind the other boys. He dragged his feet so that he could undress in privacy after everyone else had left. Eventually he sighed heavily and opened his locker to get to his things. His eyes widened. He slammed the locker shut. “It wasn't a hallucination last time,” he reasoned with himself. He struggled with the combination lock again and gasped long in disbelief. His face glowed from the yellow and red wrappers of a bulk package of Nougat Nummies. Claire's words from when she turned down his last candy bar echoed in his mind. He touched the package to make sure it was real. “I bet it's him. Jim's still looking out for me.” He looked up to the ceiling tiles that obstructed his view of the heavens, smiling genuinely for the first time since he heard the news.

 

•••

 

Claire was losing her edge. Her life was a bizarre blend of fantasy and reality, and her lines were so engrained into her memory there was no challenge to rehearsing anymore. On one hand, since Steve crashed his Vespa Sunday, she didn't have to worry about the discomfort of acting with him, or even the way that lately he'd been referring to her as though he possessed her in some weird way. She tried to stay positive about it, but Ms. Janeth's concerned expression reminded them that there was no foreseeable Romeo. Without him and Mercutio, rehearsals ended early.

“Ms. Janeth,” she called to the director after rehearsal. “I heard that Steve got in an accident. Is he going to be okay?”

The teacher was exasperated. “He's alive, if that's what you were wondering, but the fool has- I mean, the student- has a concussion and can't be Romeo anymore.”

“What are we going to do?”

The teacher sighed with an air of dejection. “There isn't anything we can do. There isn't time to start new with another actor, and there isn't another actor to begin with. We can't cancel this close to the performance, all the parents are expecting to see their darlings in the play. Either we'll have to see how he's feeling on opening night and hope he remembers his lines, or I'll have to fill his place.”

“You mean… you would play Romeo?” Claire covered her mouth to mask her laughter.

“Unless you can find a student who happens to know all the lines. They don't even have to be from this school. I'm desperate!” her voice trilled with emotion.

Claire considered that Mary knew an awful lot of boys, including at other schools, and considered. She went backstage to try to catch her, but realized that Mary had probably left the first second she was allowed. Then it occurred to her that all the students left rather promptly in anticipation of the storm. Eventually it dawned on her- she had mistakenly allowed herself to be alone.

 

•••

 

She called her father. The thunder rolling between rings made it feel like an eternity passed before he answered. “I'm sorry, m’hija. Your mother is still at the dinner discussing the school budget for the arts. If it goes well, maybe your school can afford some decent costumes next year, eh? You brought your bike didn't you? Just hurry home before the storm catches you. You have time. Be safe.”

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. All her peers had left already. She called Toby, he didn't have any commitments. He could pause his game long enough to spare her life. No answer. Darci offered to call back once she made a successful excuse, but she couldn't justify to her dad why it wasn't sufficient for Claire to go home by herself before the storm came. Mary actually let her battery die. Claire was stranded.

She unlocked her bike from the rack and hid under the canopy at the entrance of the school. There was a rumble that was not from the thunder. _I'm a troll hunter,_ she reminded herself. She vaguely remembered something Blinky said about the hunter becoming the hunted, but it wasn't useful right now. It was in reference to using the environment as a weapon, but all the way until after the canal there would be no cover. What choice did she have but to race it? She built up her momentum running alongside her bike, then applied all her force onto the pedal, lifted herself onto the seat into a side straddle and then swung a leg over. She glanced behind where she first heard the rumble above the canopy, anticipating that it would follow after her now, but it was gone. She focused ahead on building speed. To her surprise, the stalkling was already in front of her closing the distance, screeching in triumph. She screamed. The talons reached for her.

In a blur, there stood between them the hooded figure that had previously loomed in the woods, the same that she saw from her window last night, the stranger that leapt onto the stalkling from the trees. 

The claws clutched him around the shoulders. Both forms immediately gathered height.  The screech from the monster was clearly agitated, but it seemed to tolerate its catch.

There wasn't anything she could do except keep pushing forward, so she did. Deciding she had a second to spare now, she called Toby again. No answer. Voicemail picked up. “Toby I am by myself with this thing! Please come meet up with me!” She grunted in frustration and shoved her phone in her purse to free her hands to bike harder.

“Sixteenth birthday and I get a Vespa I can't drive, a changeling for a brother, and a killer flying troll! Oh, and a weird stalker that got eaten by a stalkling.”

She made it as far as the canals before it caught up again.  Her stomach sank as she wondered if her savior was in its belly. It swooped down for her. She veered sharply and turned her bike, which got caught up in the claws of the gargoyle.

 

•••

 

Strickler scribbled in his notebook as the elevator quietly descended. It had been a while since he'd returned to the headquarters. He considered his charge, who probably thought he'd run away from the Order, not knowing that his escape was planned by Strickler himself. The elevator doors barely opened when his reverie was ended as a goblin spotted him and immediately spewed babble.

“He _what?!_ ” The goblin repeated it's frenzied story, and the changeling broke into a sprint toward the supply room.

 

•••

 

Toby was playing Go Go Sushi with AAARRRGGHH!!!, too caught up in the bonus points they'd earn if they caught the tuna roll. The screen went black. In fact, all the power had gone out. “Stupid storm,” the boy grumbled. He checked his phone casually and realized that he had missed several calls from Claire. He played the voicemail and gasped. “Wingman, Claire's in trouble!”

 

•••

 

She struggled in the talons of the beast. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command because I really need to live to save my brother!” Surprised that its meal was suddenly armored with daylight, the gargoyle dropped her, but then snatched her again midair. She swung Daylight and nicked the monster's knuckles. It screeched, and angrily spun in the air to disorient her before increasing height once more.

Several things crossed her mind in flashes faster than the beats of the creature’s wings as her thoughts became vapors. There was less oxygen higher up. Seagulls drop crabs from great heights to crack their shells. When satellites were first sent to space, it was discovered that passing through the atmosphere could generate enough static to trigger a lightning bolt. Metal and water conducted electricity, and Tesla protected himself in a metal cage in his laboratory. Lightning is five times hotter than the surface of the sun.

In the haze of thoughts, they seemed to connect. She extended Daylight into the storm.

The stalkling screeched. A silver fire sparked across her body, and charged the stone oppressor. The flyer spasmed with a shriek, releasing its clutch on  Claire. She went limp. The stalkling stiffened and turned to stone. Together they descended.

 

•••

 

“She's up there, Wingman!” Toby tried to charge after her descending form, riding hard on his bike. The lightning illuminated the sky and outlined her body, and his heart leapt into his throat. He called out desperately to the troll that galloped behind him. “Hurry hurry hurry!”

AAARRRGGHH!!! grunted with effort and leapt over Toby, propelling himself towards her trajectory. As the troll’s emotions escalated, the grooves across his skin began to glow green. He dove for the lamp posts that lined the bridge and used his momentum to swing ahead. The familiar dark ring encroached on his vision and sharpened his coordination, and he bounded at his target. Metal clicked against stone and when he caught his prey, he halted, rocky feet grating the asphalt road. The troll panted away the fog that clouded his vision and held out the girl for Toby to examine once he approached.

“Claire,” Toby called out. At the sound of her name, she twitched and her eyes opened. “Yeah, great job, AAARRRGGHH!!!”

“Gotcha,” the troll beamed victoriously. Daylight the blade whined through the air just as it fell point down into the asphalt  between them and vaporized. The stone corpse of the stalkling crashed shortly after into the canal. The trio looked over the edge at the shattered remains.

Claire grunted, her left eye twitching incessantly. “I guess this means the Goblin King is done for,” she considered regretfully.

Toby didn't hear her as he had his phone to his ear. “Ugh, Doctor Darci? Your patient was struck with lightning. What kind of treatment would you recommend? She's still twitching.” A raised voice could be heard from the other side of the phone. AAARRRGGHH!!! balanced Claire on his shoulder as they escorted her back home.

 

•••

 

Fragwa leapt like an angry frog through the mud and stopped at the edge of a pit dug out in an isolated clearing. The goblin looked down and then glanced back at the changeling leader. “Wasa ga da.”

Strickler himself peered over the edge. Almost camouflaged by mud, a sad figure huddled feebly under his cloak. The boy looked up to the lip of the hole. His voice croaked as he called out weakly. “...Strickler?”

“Did you really think you could single handedly dispatch a stalkling,” he called out to his charge.

“No,” he answered dejectedly. “But I had to do something.”

Strickler smiled his approval. “Atta boy.” He tied a bowline knot and dropped a rope to retrieve the boy and pull him to safety.

The child was a disheveled mess. His slitted blue eyes glowed dimly and were rimmed in red, his frown was exaggerated by his tusks, and the soggy hood of his cloak was misshapen by the his horns. Mud was caked in his hair, behind his pointed ears, under his nails, inside and out of his clothes. His shoes would have to be disposed of completely. “You're a right mess,” Strickler observed. Jim hung his head to hide his face under his matted bangs. Strickler stepped forward and embraced the boy, whose shoulders slacked in response. “Let's get you back home.”


	10. Chapter 10

Wearing a tank top and loose baggy pants, she tiptoed barefoot down the basement stairs. The massive geode unfolded and turned to reveal a set of six pointed horns and a titanium ring between golden eyes that glowed lightly in the dark. "What are you doing down here this time of night," it inquired.

"I can't sleep, Draal." She sat on the stairs and rest her head on her fist, her elbow on her knee. The geode started to curl back up, then decided otherwise.

"Alright, Trollhunter. What's on your mind."

"A lot. Too much. I miss my brother. I have a changeling and a troll in my house and my parents know nothing about it. The bridge is almost done and I can't find it. My classmate died, and so did my stalker. Oh, and I killed someone. I know that's nothing to you, but it's kind of a big deal for me."

"Ah, unpleasant thoughts are keeping you from sleeping, hmm? I think I might have something."

"Thanks, Draal. You're the best basement brother a girl could ask for."

 

•••

Claire sat back in bed and pulled the covers over her lap. In her hand she rolled around a perfectly pristine marble. He insisted it was a totem to bring peaceful sleep. She tucked it under her pillow and lay back down. She didn't shuffle around in her sheets nearly as long before she was finally asleep.

Walls of obsidian surrounded her. Corridors wove around in sharp turns and traced back around somehow, as if the paths moved. She needed to find her brother, he was here somewhere. She thought she hit a dead end when she was faced with the glass marble, enlarged to block her path. Trapped, she took a few steps back, only to press against another obsidian wall. The way she came turned into a dead end. Reluctantly she pressed ahead, and touched a hand to the surface of the glass. It rippled under her touch.

It was flat, her reflection looking back at her curiously. Her reflection was dressed in black satin, red ribbons and accents sewn and tied elaborately. Even the streak in her hair was red, her hair clips replaced with jewels of ruby. She wasn't alone, she realized. She turned and discovered she was at a lavish gathering, the attendants and guests all in masks. A green mask of a bat looked familiar. There was also a pink snake, a yellow- green frog, an orange bull, a yellow lion, a white mantis, and other animals and mythical creatures in various colors and designs. The attendants were decked in elaborate costumes that looked like otherworldly creatures, but fanciful with lace and velvet and feathers and gems.

She needed to find the host. She was compelled to look into each of the masks, which grinned at her with fangs bared. Many glowing eyes met hers and then looked past. None of them were the right eyes. She drifted through the crowd. She felt like there should be something in her hand. How did she end up empty handed? It was that same feeling like forgetting a piece of jewelry always worn, but something was obstructing her thoughts and she forgot what she was looking for, just that she was looking, looking.

A hand took hers, white silk slipping into her palm of black satin. She turned in surprise, finding the right eyes that did not turn away from her. His mask was pure white, almost silvery from the shine, a familiar metallic gleam that covered only half his face, with long slender horns curling back in the same material. The eyes alone would have given away his identity, but the part of his face and dark hair that was exposed solidified her recognition. The familiar blue of his overcoat seemed distorted, a dark, almost black velvet and long, like a convergence of the jacket of her classmate and cloak of the Goblin King. A white satin shirt was clasped at the throat with a metal brooch bearing an insignia she didn't recognize.

It's you, where are you, she wanted to ask. The illusion was sharp, but her thoughts were vapors and her voice never sounded. He answered her silent question with a somber gaze as he moved her hand to his shoulder and took the other up into his own. She felt sorrowful herself just to see him. She swayed with him then in a tragic dance. Internally she began to beg for the sound of his voice, for some knowledge pertaining to his whereabouts, some assurance that he was well, an explanation for what was wrong, confirmation that he knew where her brother was.

His eyes grew larger, a pleading expression denying the answers she sought. She squeezed his hand, sensing his warmth through their gloves, certain of the pressure of his other hand on the small of her back on her corset. He parted his lips to speak, but a voice that overrode the melancholy piano rang throughout the chamber.

"He is my prince, and my slave," the powerful voice chided, a voice like a goddess. From his lips crept under his skin tendrils of black, poisonous webbing spreading also from around his now jet black eyes, the illusion fracturing like a mirror.

"Jim!"

She sat up in bed and gasped. She reached for the amulet on her side table, tightly grasping its cold metal in her fingers, assuring herself that she was no longer missing that thing she knew she was without in that dream. This was more than just a dream, though. There were elements she would not have come up with herself. Jim and the Goblin King, the same person? Maybe that part was made up. What about that woman's voice? Jim was being controlled by her-

A dream. Just a dream. Right?

 

•••

"Draal!"

The geode uncurled again. So much for getting any rest tonight. He exhaled deeply. "It didn't work?"

"You tell me. What is this thing supposed to do?" She chucked the marble at him as she descended the stairs.

"Help you sleep."

"How, exactly."

"Right, it shows you what you long for, something like that. It doesn't translate well."

"I'm not sure I would call that a pleasant dream."

"Well, what did you dream about." She felt her face get rosy.

"I, uh, I was in a maze of black stone, looking for my brother-"

"The Darklands, by the sound of it, where your brother is. Is that not what you long for?" He adjusted himself to face her. She stood halfway up the stairs still; she crossed her arms and looked away. "You kept dreaming?"

He was quick to dissect her dream already. She was reluctant to expose herself by continuing. "There was a large glass sphere blocking the way." She paused. She assumed he wouldn't understand. After all, he was a troll.

"Sounds like an obstacle, or a task that must be completed first. What was in it."

"A... dance."

He chuckled. "Fighting is like dancing, isn't it?"

"Everyone there had masks."

He chuckled harder. "Impures. Of course you'll be fighting impures. Now, I wonder what that has to do with your longings." He was clearly insinuating they had something in common, and she recalled Nomura's familiarity with him. She sat on the steps and took a breath.

"There was someone that I recognized, but he had half a mask, and it covered one side of his face." She waited for his explanation.

He blinked, his expression blank. "I don't understand."

She sighed, and rested her face on her knees. "That might have been the most important part. I think he was trying to warn me, but there was a woman's voice. She sounded powerful."

"...I should have given that to Blinky."

"What?" Her head snapped up. "What do you mean? What is it?"

"I thought it was a Gumm Gumm totem, but I'm not so sure now. It might be touched with dark magic."

"Seriously? Now you tell me?"

 

•••

 

It was a glorious, sunny day, a quiet afternoon in the naïve town of Arcadia. Strickler checked the time once more and strolled casually to the vacant seat on the park bench. “Hello,” the woman politely greeted. He nodded courteously and opened his book. He began to count in his head. Once the phone was answered, he would have approximately a minute for discussion.

Ophelia resumed her babbling conversation with the dribbling baby in the stroller until her phone went off. She rose from the bench and stepped to the side for some privacy while she kept a relaxed eye on the stroller.

She didn't watch keenly enough, and the stroller hopped to face the professor before it sparked.

“We're meeting today to activate the Eye Stone,” Strickler spoke softly.

The troll baby responded. “You mean, we're gonna finally be able to talk to the big honcho? Oh, I can't. Your tubby pupil did a number on me new home and now I can't leave the house.”

Strickler looked up from his book with incredulity. “You've been exposed!”

“What was I supposed to do? The fleshbags used a gaggletack on me!”

“Bular will be upset.”

“This could be a good thing! They think I'm helping them. I've learned things.”

“Like?”

Mrs. Nuñez paced as she spoke on the phone. NotEnrique glanced at her as he chewed the nipple of his bottle before he answered. “Mr. Six eyes and big scary name-"

“Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!!”

“Yeah- the big one don't talk much but the smart one’s certainly taken to the girl. You should've seen how he stood up for her to Mr. Trollmarket.”

At that, the facade shattered. “Vendel? Wait, you've been to Trollmarket?”

“They take me all the time now.”

Strickler sternly clutched at the stroller and leaned forward to not be overheard. “From now on you report only to me. Perhaps there are some things Bular doesn't need to know.”

“... go ahead and do that,” Ophelia wrapped up her conversation eight seconds early. NotEnrique rapidly pulled a swaddle blanket over his head. At the councilwoman’s accusing stare, Mr. Strickler quickly resumed the act. “Who is a lovely adorable baby? Wish they could stay that way forever, right?”

 

•••

 

The class shuffled in, buzzing with gossip and expectation. Surprisingly, Coach Lawrence started the class when the bell rang. “Strickler's out today, so I'm subbing. He asked me to fill in to teach you some history. So without further ado, I present to you, Gun Robot Three!” The class cheered. A student by the door eagerly switched the lights out and the coach began the movie.  

There was murmur about Steve's absence and whether the next actor would be an actress or a student from another school in a desperate attempt to save the play. Claire tried to ignore it as she caught Mary up to speed in her trollhunting ordeals in a loud whisper. “I swear. The stalkling was about to grab me, but this guy in a hooded cloak literally jumped in the way and saved me.”

“Right. Why don't you ask him to be Romeo.” Mary nodded to feign encouragement.

“Were you listening? That person is troll chow now.” Claire was furious with herself. Jim died, her brother was swapped, and now even this mysterious person got mixed into this mess. She regret assuming initially that he was controlling the stalkling.

“Claire,  I'm really glad you’re alive. I just have a hard time not believing you were close enough to death to dream up a hero. You were struck by lightning, for heaven's sake!”

“I saw him before then, too! I thought he was stalking me, to be honest.”

“Well, maybe at the last second he had a change of heart, but he was actually sent to spy on you by the changelings.” Mary developed the habit of glancing around warily when she brought up the taboo species.

“They wouldn't be that reckless.”

“Ahem, stalkling.”

“Okay, so they're reckless.”

Mary’s ears perked at the mention of Steve from some students that were bored with the movie. “What are you going to do about the play?”

“If Ms. Janeth cancels the play, I won't tell mom straight away. That way I'll have extra time to train at Trollmarket while she thinks I'm at rehearsal.”

“And what are we doing about Killahead? We don't know where the bridge is anymore and we can't get your not-brother to sing.”

“Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! are looking for it as we speak. That's all we have to go on right now.” Claire took out her notebook and left it open, Trollish script scrawled artistically. She maintained her habits of writing poetry in her free time, which she didn't have much of recently. She chewed at the end of her pencil as she considered the page.

Pensively Mary tapped her fingertips together. “So, how are you handling your first kill?”

“Please don't talk about it like that. It was completely self defense-"

“The noblest of executions.”

“She was a living, breathing, talking person. And the hygiene assistant to Toby's dentist!” Claire glanced at the coach when she caught herself getting too loud. He licked a fingertip and turned the page of a magazine.

“Which means he would have been toast if it weren't for you.”

“I know. It's just, death makes this all too real. I feel like I'm responsible for every casualty from now on.” She stopped suddenly to jot down Trollish script in her journal.  

Mary glanced over her shoulder. “I'm never going to be able to read that.”

“It's not for you, it's for me.”

 

•••

  
Father and son waited for the changelings and goblins to depart from them. The silhouette in the mouth of the portal spoke first, his gravelly voice giving away his age and fatigue. “What has become of Stricklander? He appears to have grown soft.”

Bular was eager to express his frustration with the changeling he'd been forced to cooperate with. “In his human guise he has come to be the teacher of both the half breed and the Trollhunter. I believe he has affections for the boy, and that it's distracted him from our mission.” He clenched his fist with irritation.

“You question his dedication?”

“I do, father.”

The father troll considered. “If his heart has turned, we must know. Test him.”

Bular smirked. “With pleasure.”

 

•••

 

“Higher,” Blinky coached. “Higher.”

“Arms hurt,” AAARRRGGHH!!! complained. The slab of stone trembled as he suspended it to attach to the equipment in the forge.

“Imagine how much Master Claire’s arms will hurt should this training equipment malfunction.”

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! were making repairs to the forge when the girls rushed in. Claire called out to him. “Blinky can I talk to you?” He perceived an urgency and encouraged AAARRRGGHH!!! to take a break.

“I'm all ears, as they say.” He chuckled to himself. “And eyes, and arms.”

She glanced at her friends, who didn't pick up on her secretive demeanor. “Privately, please.” He nodded and led Claire to his library.

 

•••

 

"You brought a _Scry Stone_ into _Trollmarket_?! Do you have any idea of the repercussions?! And without so much as a box of lead!" Blinky immediately snatched up the marble as if it were a lump of fecal matter, pinching it delicately and turning to the knick knacks on the shelves in the library.

"Why does it need a box? It's so small-"

"A Scry Stone perceives everything within 30 feet that's not obstructed by a thin sheet of lead, an inch of metal, a foot of stone, or three feet of wood or dirt. And you brought it to Trollmarket! Do you wish to expose us to the-" he looked around quickly, six eyes darting in different directions before whispering the last word- "changelings?!" He rummaged quickly through his possessions with his three free hands, fourth fist gripping the marble tightly before slamming it into a box lined with dull foil in its interior.

“Draal called it a Dream Stone. He said it was a totem that would help me sleep.”

“You used it,” Blinky stated warily, fearing the answer. “Oh dear.”

“Why? What's wrong with the marble?”

Blinky shut his eyes, upper pair of arms rubbing his temples, lower pair rubbing palms together thoughtfully. “Where does he get these totems,” he mumbled softly to himself before straightening his posture and addressing the individual before him. He continued to speak softly, a pair of eyes darting warily past Claire and the doorway as he spoke. “Magically cursed objects are often disguised as the most ordinary items to lure unsuspecting victims. Scry stones had multiple uses in order to enter circulation and fulfill the purpose they were created for. No one would willingly carry a spy with them, but it was such an innocent, universal desire to have pleasant dreams. One who understands how to utilize it would be able to search for a multitude of things in a dream state, and the Sight can go both ways. Now, you must tell me what you saw.”

Claire found a nearby stack of books and took a seat. “I started in a maze-"

“Anything particular about the maze?”

“It was dark, and the path kept changing. I felt like I was going in circles-"

“What kind of a maze?”

“I think the walls were obsidian.”

“Indeed! Continue.”

She became wary. He was interrupting her rather frequently for someone who desired she did the speaking. “I was looking for my brother-"

“But of course! The changeling nursery in the Darklands!” He perceived her impatience as she crossed her arms at him. “My apologies, do continue.”

“There was a large glass sphere that blocked the way-" she stopped due to the restless tapping of the trolls fingers against each other. “Say it.”

“Did you perchance enter the sphere?” A note of dread conducted his voice.

“I didn't have a choice.”

“I see.” He breathed deeply. “I understand.” He said nothing more so she continued without invite.

“Suddenly I was in a ballroom, with walls made of mirrors. I was wearing a black and red dress, and I didn't have the amulet with me anymore. Okay, what is it.”

Blinky’s eyes frowned with concern. “Entering the sphere activated the secondary function of the stone. You were in a lair the creator of the artifact fabricated, and interestingly the dress- anyway, what did you scry there? For that is essentially what you were doing by that point.”

“I was looking for someone. I think, really it might have been two someones, but…” Two of his hands took one of her own to hold in consolation as her tone dipped. “I was looking for Jim.”

“This is the late classmate?”

“Yeah. And, I might have been looking for the Goblin King, or maybe I found him. It was Jim, with half a mask on.”

“Master Claire. I want to warn you against any hope this dream may have inspired. It very well may be an illusion created by the mage to trick you. It wouldn't be unlikely.”

To his dismay her eyes filled with tears. She recalled suddenly how Jim’s pleading expression was suddenly dominated with eyes of the darkest black like pits of a black hole, his skin and white gloves consumed with veins of black magic, the mocking voice that sang louder in her head than her own voice. The fractures of it all like a mirror shattering. “... smoke and mirrors,” Blinky consoled. “Don't believe any of it, it was a well fabricated trap.”

“Destroy it,” she demanded, loathing in her voice. “I don't ever want her in my head again.”

“In due time,” he assured. “I'll need to find the most efficient means of dealing with a cursed item from someone so powerful. For now it remains locked away, rest assured.”

 

•••

 

The squad warily looked about as they departed Trollmarket. A movement in a grate down the way caught Claire's attention.  She considered the time she saw the Goblin King near the trees, goblins at his feet.

“I'll see you guys later, I'm going to go clear my head.”

“Are you sure?” Darci regarded her with concern. “We're going to get ice cream, the walk to town should be enough fresh air, shouldn't it?”

“I just want to be alone with my thoughts for a little bit.”

Somberly Darci and Mary agreed to meet with her later. As they ran up the sides of the canal to the bridge they thought aloud. “Jim's death really got to her,” Darci started.

“I can't imagine. What would happen to me if Hank died in an explosion at school! I would be in pieces!”

“But then Logan would pick you up and you'd be brand new.”

“He has a way of sweeping me off my feet,” Mary concurred.

 

•••

 

Claire squeezed through the grate following the goblin. At the sight of her it scurried ahead, but for a skittish creature it seemed to allow her to get rather close before slinking into shadows. “Wait,” she hissed. “I'm not here to hurt you.” She dove ahead to a straight channel and looked around searchingly. A movement forced her to halt. The little creature unfolded, clinging to the pipes overhead by its feet like a wingless bat. It watched her expectantly with glowing eyes. “I'm looking for someone, maybe you know him. He… wears a hooded cloak,” she began to gesture as if she were wearing an invisible garment. “... He's like a Goblin King or something? I don't know, you guys seem to follow him around.”

“Waka chaka.” It nodded

“You understand!” It unfolded further, dropped onto all fours, and pattered ahead of her. “Wait for me!”

She trailed after it enthusiastically. Perhaps he was alive. She might know for sure if the Goblin King and Jim were the same, and if they weren't she could at least thank him for saving her life. She wanted to know what side he was on. She wanted to ask how to save her brother. Surely if she wasn't armed, he would see she wasn't a threat to him and would be willing to talk.

The goblin kept going, crawling up the walls and along the pipes at times, barely giving her a chance to keep up. She felt turned around and lost, but she couldn't get her bearings at this speed and didn't want to lose her unlikely escort.

“Wait,” she huffed after it again. It swung by its limbs to increase its speed and swooped aside into another tunnel out of sight. She charged in after it and immediately halted.

The goblin perched on its hands, legs folded just below its torso, a smug expression fueled by the quaking of the earth below from the great black beast that emerged from the shadows behind it. Yellow and crimson eyes glowed with greed. A voice like churning gravel addressed her. “How is it that you're so quick to race to your death, Trollhunter?”

She stumbled backwards and donned her armor with a rapidly muttered incantation. She held Daylight before her, but her eyes darted to each possible exit. She was lost. She'd allowed herself to be ambushed. Blinky was right, she shouldn't have waited to be face to face with death before snuffing the hope that the dream had given her.

Bular began to circle around her, and instinctively she too paced warily opposite him, careful to face him head on. As her perspective allowed her to glimpse the mouths of the tunnels, she noticed more and more glowing eyes as the goblins gathered to witness the death of the Trollhunter.

Goblins were easier than Bular, she decided, even if in their act of vengeance they could overpower her. She dove for a tunnel, and Bular shot ahead and blocked the way with a snarl. She ran to a tunnel opposite, even though she didn't know where it went, but she was slower in the armor and he shot ahead to block her way once more. She made a swing at him, but missed.

The goblin that escorted her to the ambush babbled at Bular, humor in its inflections. The troll smirked at the information. “I see now. You came here eager to see how we took care of Young Atlas.” He laughed, proud of his deductions, for the wild look in her eyes confirmed what he knew. “Good. The fear will tenderize your flesh. You'll taste /mmm/.” He licked his chops slowly as he imagined savoring the taste of her flesh, and then swung hard and quick. She screamed, knowing the hit was too much to block, but having no other choice. The force threw her across the chamber.

“Claire?!”

“C-bomb?  Where are you?!”

Like guardian angels, their voices called out from overhead. “I'm in the sewers!” A different hope renewed, she found her beat once more and ducked under the stone blade. She quickly followed with an upward swipe, grazing his eye. “Like father like son,” she chided, immediately punished when a stony arm hit across her torso and propelled her like a rag doll. When she stopped rolling, she grunted and propped herself up on an elbow. “I deserved that,” she grimaced. She suddenly saw a light overhead and knew she was dying until they called her name again.

“Claire! Get up here!”

“Follow the light,” Mary added. She had her arms around Darci, who reached a hand down for Claire to grab. Obediently she scrambled to her feet and tried to leap, but at the last second ducked as a blade nearly intercepted. She took advantage of the following pause to jump but fell short.

“The armor’s too heavy!” She then skirted to the edge of the ring of sunlight opposite the sparks Bular created as he dragged the blade across the floor.

“Dunno what to tell you C-bomb, but you gotta get up here. I'm not telling your mom bad news today, got it?”

Bular chuckled. “Pathetic, to meet your end in a sewer, Trollhunter.”

“You'll pay for the lives you've taken,” she swore.

“I will have yours first,” he assured, following through with a swing that would have cleaved through her if her legs didn't carry her back in time.

He yanked. The blade was embedded in the cement. Her eyes darted between his sword and the outstretched hands overhead. In a display of dazzling blue light she shed the armor and stepped onto his sword. “Fear is but the precursor to valor,” she recited. Hot with fury at her boldness, he tore the sword from the ground, and incidentally launched her through the manhole where her friends caught hold of her.

Darci scrambled to slide the cover back over. They squealed as he gave a final defiant punch, which caused the lid to rise and clatter again.

Darci shoved at Claire from where she sat in the middle of the street. “What were you thinking?! Were you taking the scenic route through the sewers?”

“They killed Jim,” she stated breathlessly.

“What? Who, Bular?”

“Strickler. _Strickler_ killed him!” Claire kicked her heel down on the metal cover. A car horn honked behind them. Mary physically pulled Claire up to her feet, and again Claire stomped angrily on the cover and cursed in Trollish as well as swore an oath after Bular.

“Please don't challenge him to another round right now, you know we can't win like this,” Darci pleaded. “We're literally right around the corner from the ice cream shop, we'll drown our sorrows in frozen dairy.”

 

•••

 

“You did what?!” Despite that he remained in his human form, Strickler still bared his teeth at the insolent troll he had to tolerate as an equal.

“I said we took care of Young Atlas.” Bular crossed his arms smugly as he watched the changeling fall apart.

“But I call him that. Me, alone!”

He smirked. “You should have seen her face.”

The one vulnerability in Strickler's entire plan had been utterly exploited. It could only be worse if the boy knew as well. “She'll know I'm working with you. She'll know I'm a changeling. Of all the idiotic things you've done, you imbecile-"

“I gave the orders.” The voice boomed from the other side of the portal. Strickler's eyes grew wide and he quickly humbled himself, realizing that he was in the presence of Gunmar.

Bular grinned. He finally had his father's support against the antagonizing changeling. “Call it a test,” Gunmar suggested.

Strickler struggled to stabilize his voice as his mind spun with these developments he had no control over. “Oh, a t- a test?”

“To lead her to you. So when the time comes you will kill the girl and free me with her amulet.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Trolls,” Strickler grumbled, mumbling a few colorful adjectives for the stone-brained creatures. He steepled his hands, elbows rested on the desk.

“So Bular blew your cover?” NotEnrique shook his head and chuckled in disbelief.

“They're foolish if they think she's going to confront me face to face. She's too clever for that, she knows her strength isn't her strength.” He took up his his pen and clicked it together pensively. “She's bright… she knows knowledge is power, but she doesn't know that I know…” Strickler withdrew his notebook and began to flip through it. He skimmed through his notes and scribbled in between the margins.

NotEnrique got on all fours and angled his head to try to read the changeling script. “What are you doing?”

“Feeding her information.” He continued to write as he explained. “You're going to let it slip that I have dinner plans and will be out of the office. She's going to wisely seek my secrets. Secrets I've planted.”

NotEnrique sat at the edge of the desk, his ears twitched inquisitively. “How's that going to get us the amulet?”

“You are going to take it.”

“Me?!” His ears pointed straight up in surprise.

Strickler withdrew from seemingly nowhere a medallion. It looked almost exactly like the ever elusive artifact. Pointedly he opened the top drawer and stuck the amulet to the underside of the desktop. “When she's distracted by the notebook, which no doubt she will be, you will replace the amulet. Do not allow her to trigger the incantation while she is here, lest she realize she is without it.”

“Why would she need to suit up in a school?”

“I will plant another secret in case she gets too nosy, but she won't have the luxury of time to investigate it. You won't want to meet my guard, either, so be prepared to leave quite promptly.”

“If she ain't got the amulet, wouldn't you want your guard to get her and be done with it?”

“The amulet will call for another Trollhunter. No, we won't take that risk. Besides, with a human Trollhunter, I'll have control over the chaos, not Bular.”

 

•••

 

The door to the nursery opened precisely at feeding time. As Claire stepped in, a green light flashed. “Feeding time,” the changeling licked his chops. The girl left the baby bottle on the bureau and took a covered paper cup out of the sleeve on the side of her school bag. The changeling perked up. “Is that root beer? I thought ma never let us get soda at the drive through. Something about it being overpriced and cans at home.”

“I made a few stops on the way home tonight. I think we started off on the wrong foot, so I got you your favorite: cheeseburger, Joe fries, and the best part…” she handed the cup to the changeling and he chugged greedily through the straw. She placed the paper sack beside him in the crib and dropped the school bag by her feet.

He finally stopped chugging to inhale. “Glug! Awe, you shouldn't have.”

She leaned her arms on the rail of the crib as he devoured the contents from the paper sack. “I know. So you're going to make it up to me and tell me exactly what I want to know.”

The hamburger bun suddenly seemed unusually dry and he swallowed hard.

“Where's Jim.”

“Never met the guy,” he answered indifferently.

She reached a hand out and metal assembled itself into a gauntlet around his throat. She kept her voice steady. “Where's the bridge.”

“That's classified!” He wheezed. “I ain't supposed to know and this is exactly why!”

“You knew Strickler was a changeling.”

“I'll throw you a bone, just let me wet my whistle and I'll sing you a pretty song.” She released her grip and permitted the amulet to deactivate. He took another swig of glug before he spoke. “The professor is dating the boy's mom.”

She huffed. “So?”

“She invited him over for dinner. If he keeps his secrets anywhere, it's gonna be in his office. And he won't be there to guard it.”

She pondered. There were only so many secrets he could hide on his person. Perhaps he had a hint or two hidden in the office he practically lived in.

“You know, you're not that bad. I'm sorry I doubted you.”

“You got me grub,” he pointed a fry at her. “I'll consider us even.”

 

•••

 

“So what's up, Claire?” Toby joined the girls at the bike racks, their preferred rendezvous point since they came to realize that talking during class when a changeling was teaching would be too risky.

“Yeah, Claire. Spill.” Mary was impatient about being kept in the dark.

Claire held her hands out as if to brace them with what she was about to say. “First of all, did you know that Strickler is dating Jim's mom?”

“Duh,” Mary scoffed.

“What?” Darci exclaimed.

“Oh,” Toby deflated.

“Tonight he's supposed to go over for dinner. Since he practically lives in his office, I'm going to break in and see if there's anything there about where they moved the bridge, and maybe even what really happened to Jim.”

“I'm going, too,” Toby announced. “Jim is my friend, and if he's trapped in Strickler's creepy troll hands, then he needs me.”

Claire nodded in agreement. “You live across the street, right? Can Darci and Mary use your place to scope it out?”

“Hold up, C-bomb.” Mary threw her hands up, though she couldn't hide the mischievous smirk that began to form. “You want me and Darci to spy on Strickler's date?”

“You're just going to watch. Do not engage, he doesn't know we're going to break into his office and I don't want him to find out.”

“Covert operation,” Toby karate chopped the air. “My two favorite words. After Taco Tuesday, of course.”

“I'll borrow some of my dad's gear,” Darci offered.

 

•••

 

Draal snorted. “I do not approve of this plan. It lacks a certain “killing the changeling” component.”

Claire rubbed her forehead as she shook her head in the dark of the basement. “I know, but if we kill NotEnrique, then the changelings might kill my real brother-"

“Other changeling, then. There are options.” He smirked.

“We need to stay focused and find the bridge first,” she scolded.

“We could rip off his limbs, make him talk, more like scream. Now that sounds like a good idea.”

“We can't have Jim's mom finding out about trolls, or Strickler might kill her. Or maybe he won't. I don't want to find out. Just guard the place, I don't want anything happening to my parents while I'm gone.”

A voice from the kitchen called down to the basement. “Claire, are we out of onions?”

Draal plucked an onion off the shelf and handed it to her. “Coming, mama,” Claire called out.

 

•••

 

A brown sedan pulled up to the house across the street. Darci watched through a set of binoculars from the window in Toby's room for the teacher to be permitted in by the doctor. “The teacher is in the henhouse,” she called back to Mary, who sat on a cushion on the floor leaning against the bed.

“Mission is a go,” Mary relayed through the phone.

“Copy that,” Toby confirmed. “I am waiting at the rendezvous point.” He waited. There was silence outside the locker he hid in. “I said, I am waiting at the rendezvous point.” Still there was no response. He rattled the locker door. “NotEnrique!”

A vent overhead swung open and from it descended the small changeling. His nose guided him to the occupied locker. He peered inside with his glowing eyes. “Gimme the sock first, then I'll let you out.”

“Now? That wasn’t the deal.” The changeling fell out of sight from the slits in the locker door. Afraid the changeling would abandon him, Toby struggled in his cramped prison to pull a sock from his pocket. He forced it through the slot and it was greedily tugged at, yet he kept a hold of it. “You'll get the other one when the job is done,” Toby warned before he relinquished his grip. Still he waited as NotEnrique gobbled up the garment. “Open up!” Finally the locker door swung open and he fell out like a sack of potatoes. He got back onto his hands and knees to regain stealth.

“Let's make it snappy,” NotEnrique instructed. He plopped onto Toby's back as if he were riding a mount. “I've got a 9:00 pm feeding I don't wanna miss.”

Toby insisted on slinking against the walls like a spy. “I coulda let you in,” the changeling said casually as he strolled down the middle of the hall on all fours. Toby hummed suspenseful spy music to himself until he was adjacent to the double doors leading out. He dragged a finger on the handle and licked his fingertip. He peered through the gap between the door and pressed himself back against the wall before giving the go- ahead to the changeling. NotEnrique climbed above the doors so he could use his weight against the handles.

The doors swung open to permit entry to the patiently waiting trolls and Trollhunter. She rest her hands on her hips akimbo. “You seriously stayed in the locker all this time? NotEnrique could have let you in with us.”

Toby shrugged. “Maybe I didn't trust that he'd help us.”

“So you were going to take the chance that you'd be stuck in the locker instead?”

“I know how to work the door from the inside. Jim showed me, it's just really hard when you don't have any elbow room.”

Blinky inhaled deeply as he stepped in and marveled at the inside of the school. “The fabled halls of Alexandria could not hold a candle to the high school of Arcadia Oaks.”

“The halls of what?”

“Aha! Feigned ignorance. You are a funny little man, Tobias.”

Claire leaned toward Toby to whisper. “It's a library.” Toby shrugged in confusion as to why the troll would be so enchanted with their school.

AAARRRGGHH!!! grunted suddenly and halted in his steps. Toby swiftly came to his rescue, and at the sound of the boy's voice, the troll reached for him to pick him up, unable to see past the banner in his face that spread across the hall. “Careful, Wingman. We gotta be stealthy.” Toby tried to tape up the banner back in its rightful place as the troll held him up. “We can't leave a trace. Covert operations are supposed to be covert.”

Claire warned them at the sound of polished leather shoes squeaking on the vinyl tile floors. “Guys, we have company.”

Toby stuttered. “I thought the coast was clear!”

NotEnrique shrugged indifferently. “Was that my responsibi-" His mouth clicked shut as AAARRRGGHH!!! pressed a finger to it before snatching him from plain sight.

 

•••

 

“So I said to my co-worker, “I brought you a midnight snack.” Too bad for him, he had indigestion for days!" Strickler snorted as he laughed, and Barbara couldn't help but chuckle herself. “Well, that's the problem with eating Italian.”

Their good humor was interrupted with a phone ringing. “Oh, I'm sorry, it's the hospital. I have to take this.”

“Go, go,” he encouraged kindly. She stepped into the kitchen for privacy as she engaged in a discussion about bereavement leave.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Strickler took out his phone and brochure from the pockets inside his blazer and quietly placed an order.

 

•••

 

“Why is Señor Uhl patrolling the hall at night?” Claire waited until they were secure in the office before she voiced her confusion. “Toby, you were in charge of checking the teachers with the gaggletack-"

“He turned up negative. The only one I couldn't manage was Strickler.”

“It's probably for the best, anyway. Spread out, he has to have something here.”

For several minutes, there was only a quiet rustle as objects were moved about and an occasional hum from a curious spy. AAARRRGGHH!!! reached under tables and bookshelves. Claire checked in the front and back covers of each book. NotEnrique looked through a magazine he had stashed there prior to their visit.

“I hate to say this, Claire, but everything appears to be quite normal.” Blinky held out a book to free any loose pages as he spoke.

“If I were a changeling, where would I keep my secrets?” Toby pondered. He swiveled in the teacher's seat.

Claire glared at NotEnrique. “What?” She cleared her throat. He exhaled pitifully. “... in plain sight.”

Claire considered it. She kicked Toby out of the chair and took his place. She steepled her hands together, elbows propped on the desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Channeling his character.” She reached for a pen and clicked it in her hand as she looked around the surface of the desk. He kept the surface too clean, like someone who micromanages, someone who erases his tracks. Someone who would hide secrets where they wouldn't stand out and draw attention. And he had to appear normal doing it. Therefore, it couldn't be in out-of-the-way hiding places like in the ceiling tiles or under floorboards. She turned the chair slightly to analyze the drawers. The bottom one had a lock and so was a much more appealing place to put secrets. Therefore it was more likely to be in the top drawer. She opened it and examined the placement of all the articles before she picked up the journal on top. On top meant more frequent use. She leafed through it and smiled. “Trollish.  … sort of.” NotEnrique clambered into the open drawer to read the notebook with her.

Blinky leaned over her shoulder. “The Trollish alphabet, yet the words are English. In slang, it would be referred to as changeling script.”

“Easier to read than Axel’s Almanac,” she scoffed.

“Care to read aloud,” Toby pouted, arms folded.

“... Jareth was successful in making the Nuñez swap…” Her heart thundered in her chest. NotEnrique’s ears twitched downward in uneasiness. She flipped to before it. “YA suggested the Nuñez swap…”

There was a sound of stone clicking on stone as Blinky tapped his chin. “YA? What is that code for?”

Bular's laugh echoed in the chambers of her mind. “Young Atlas. Jim suggested…”

Toby's eyes lit up at the mention. “Jim's alive?!”

“Well, this entry was before the explosion, so maybe not, but he was working for the changelings.”

“No way! Why would he do that?”

Blinky answered indifferently. “Perhaps he himself is a changeling.”

Toby discarded that possibility. “Who's this Jareth dude? Another changeling?”

“It's another code name. That's the name of the Goblin King in a movie. That's probably the hooded stalker. He controls the goblins, and he used them to swap out my brother.” She looked sharply at NotEnrique.

“‘Ey, don't look at me! I never met the guy!”

Toby became antsy and jumped around at the ideas this new information implied. “The entries are dated, right? Does it say what happened to the bridge after you broke into the museum?”

She skimmed through it. There was a note about Groe being dispatched. There was a note about YA being dispatched, the same night as the chemistry class explosion.  She wasn't sure what she felt when she read those words. There was a note about Nomura compromised on the same date, followed with a brief message about moving. “It doesn't say. Dead end.”

 

•••

 

“Is, um… is everything okay with the food?” Barbara returned from the kitchen to find that her guest hadn't taken more than a bite, preferring to fill up on wine instead.

“Oh, yes, I was just waiting for your company.”

There was an awkwardness between them. They both knew but were too embarrassed to give voice to it. Barbara caved first. “I'm sorry. I'm terrible at cooking.”

“I should have been more considerate. With everything that's been on your mind, it was cruel of me not to offer to bring something.”

“No, no. I was the one who invited you to dinner. It’s not gourmet, I know, but I should be able to put together a microwave meal. Instead the peas are crunchy and the chicken fried steak is cold.” She had until then kept her composure, but her forced smile contorted and tears began to slip beyond her control. “He was such a good cook at such a young age… so young.” She hid her face in her hands as if she could push the emotions back into her pores. Something Strickler did not forget was to keep a travel pack of tissues to offer at times like these. She apologized profusely as she accepted the gift.

“You do not need to apologize, Barbara. None of this is your fault. Don't worry about the meal, I took the liberty of ordering some Chinese delivery. Have a seat, I'll top off your glass.”

 

•••

 

Mary huffed and dropped her phone on her lap. She'd caught up on all notifications and all the new content that had been uploaded in the last half hour and was utterly bored. “Have they kissed yet?”

“What?! That is not why we're here!” Darci called back over her shoulder as she maintained her sight on the house through the binoculars.

“This is boring! The gnome is having a more romantic evening.” Chompski played a song for Sally, who's plastic hands were pressed together in delight, the light of a birthday candle glinting off her helmet. “That's it. I'm going in.”

Darci finally put the binoculars down. “We're not supposed to engage! We're just keeping watch so we can tell Claire when he leaves.”

“Don't call, I don't want you giving away my position.” Mary shut the door after herself.

 

•••

 

Claire held out the notebook in one hand while she skimmed over the binds of the books on the shelves. She counted books on the shelves, counted days in the month, frowned, divided the number of books by days in a week, grumbled, and kept on, flipping through the notebook for a legend or reference to a code language.

Toby thought he'd try Claire's trick and sat in the desk chair, fiddling with the pen. “If I were Strickler, where would I keep my secrets?” He removed and replaced the cap to the pen repeatedly. Then, it clicked differently and he examined the utensil in his hands. “Oh shoot, I broke his-” Suddenly he realized that the base of the pen he'd exposed was actually a warped piece of metal. “I found a key! I found a secret key! How spy is this?”

Claire abandoned her fruitless attempt with the bookshelf. “Great job, TP!”

“A changeling key for a changeling lock. Look for a lock,” Blinky instructed.

Claire took the largest books and opened them to check for secret compartments.

Blinky got sidetracked. He gasped when he lifted the lid on a piano. “I haven't seen one of these in ages,” he commented. He proceeded to test his memory with the song Chopsticks.

Toby followed Claire's lead and removed a book from the shelf, but stopped at the keyhole in the wall. “I found it! What the.” He wiggled the key in the keyhole but it was harder to work than his own back door. “It won't open.”

Blinky regained focus and closed the piano. “As I told you, by only the hand of a changeling can one open a changeling lock.”

Everyone's attention turned to NotEnrique. AAARRRGGHH!!! snatched up the miniature troll and Toby forced the key into his hand, which was then extended to the lock. NotEnrique glared bitterly as he tried the key, and a rumble rewarded the intruders as the bookshelf slid out of view to reveal a hidden chamber. Once AAARRRGGHH!!! released his grip on the changeling, NotEnrique shuddered. “I feel violated.”

Toby glanced around the cave. “Gee! Look at all this stuff!” Toby found a book propped open on a stand. “Woah! Wicked.”

“Undoubtedly so.” Blinky regarded the text from over the boy’s shoulder. “The Book of Ga-Huel, Gumm Gumm history.”

“Woah, is this Gunmar? Dang, look at this guy. He looks just like you, AAARRRGGHH!!!”

“That’s ‘cause it is,” NotEnrique explained as he marveled at the images from Toby's shoulder. The subject of their discussion looked away.

“Okay, yeah. Real funny.” AAARRRGGHH!!! sighed heavily. Toby caught on from his roommate's sullen behavior. “You... used to eat people?”

Blinky interjected, recognizing that this was a sore subject for his partner. “You speak the unfortunate truth. AAARRRGGHH!!! was a Gumm- Gumm and a general in Gunmar’s horde. But just before the Battle of Killahead, he absconded his flesh-eating ways to take an oath of peace. If it weren't for his aid, the world as you know it would look remarkably different.”

“People ran away. Scream AAARRRGGHH!!! No. No. Stop.”

Toby considered his friend's dark past and compared this new knowledge with his experiences with the gentle giant. “You might have been one then, but you're one of us now, Wingman.” He held out a fist in camaraderie. The troll measured the trust in the boy's face before meeting his fist with his own.

“Boom, boom.”

 

•••

 

Darci heard steps climb the stairs and rolled her eyes at Mary's cowardice. The door opened, and a voice that wasn't Mary's made her leap.

“I thought you girls would like some apple pie while you study.”

“Nana!” Darci turned away from the window and hid the binoculars behind her back. “You… shouldn't have.”

The older woman looked around, squinting behind her coke bottle glasses. “I thought someone else was here.”

“Mary's using the bathroom. The chicken surprise from school really did a number on her.” She cringed at the habits she was picking up from Toby.

“Oh dear. Does she need some medicine?”

“No, that's okay, she would be embarrassed-"

“No need for anyone to be embarrassed.” Nana tilted her head inquisitively at Darci. “Are you birdwatching?”

“Um…” Darci looked at the binoculars in her hands. “Yes. I know, we should be doing homework-"

Nana crossed the room and placed the pie on the desk. She pulled out the chair and held a hand out. “May I?”

Darci tried not to stutter, and wondered if Mary needed her to stall so as not to be noticed heading to the house by Nana. As slowly as she thought she could while appearing casual, she gave up the tool for the woman to use. Nana adjusted the lenses as she peered through it. “My girlfriends and I used to call it birdwatching, but we could tell you all the juiciest secrets in our neighborhood. They say you never know what goes on behind closed doors, but that's not true if there's open windows.” She giggled at her own joke and trained the binoculars at the house immediately across the street. “Who's the young gentleman the doctor's been seeing?”

Darci considered for a second that Strickler was probably older than Nana. “Mr. Strickler, our AP history teacher.”

“Oh, I see now why you children are taking such an interest.”

 

•••

 

“They’re coordinates written out in the margins here.” Claire snapped a picture of the notes with her phone and sent a copy each to Toby, Mary, and Darci. She then proceeded to look up the  location. “It's in Arcadia- I think this is where they hid the bridge.”

Toby continued to wander around in an attempt to be useful. “Uh, guys, is this important?”

NotEnrique tried to dismiss it. “Oh, that's nothing. Probably just... decorative art.”

Blinky glanced over, and at the sight of the artifact Toby held, his eyes grew large. “Tobias, do you realize what you've discovered?”

The boy looked over the circular object. “Strickler's got hemorrhoids?”

“No, it's a “fetch", an artifact of great power, a pinhole sized breach into the Darklands. It's how our changeling friend here came into our realm. Handle that with care.”

Toby puffed with pride to have discovered something and scoffed at NotEnrique. “Some expert you are.” His pride melted as he warily looked over the artifact. The crystalline protrusions looked like they could hurt. He tapped a tip and a hum began to build like an engine starting. A plane that shimmered with green light manifested. He poked his hand through the portal. “Ooh. Feels kinda tickly.”

“Why don't you take a peek on the other side,” NotEnrique suggested. “Maybe you'll see the Nuñez kid.”

Toby considered. He looked through the fetch. He held it over his head. Instinctively he ducked his head as he was about to pull it down. When he realized it, he took a deep breath as if he were submerging his head into water.

The surface of the portal tingled his skin, but on the other side there was a slight, chilling, wet breeze. “Woah.” It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, and he realized that from where he'd looked through the portal there was nothing below but darkness and the cragged peaks of stone that jutted up in columns around him. “So this is why they call it the Darklands.” The black stone seemed to absorb rather than reflect any light, which seemed to be faint and green and without a source. “Enrique? You here, little dude?” His voice echoed off the stone, sounding more and more lonesome the further it traveled into the realm.

Off in the distance cackled a fire like a torch, but it had no visible fuel source. The fire floated, and though it was far off, it seemed to head in his direction. “Who are you,” bellowed a voice from the direction of the fire.

“Uh oh.”

The trolls and Trollhunter, oblivious to Toby's adventure, continued to rummage and spy when a sizzling sound caught the wary changeling's attention. The glowing purple crystal cluster hummed to life, a black tendril of smoke defying gravity as it unfurled to detect movement. “Uh, sis, looks like security found us.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! sniffed the air, always quicker with his nose than his sight. “Smoke?”

Claire frowned at the sound of cackling and saw the sparking, black vapor. “What is-"

Blinky identified it fearfully. “We've got an antramonstrum!”

She held out her amulet. “For the glory-"

“Ain't got time for that kid, run! Metal don't work on those things! It'll slow you down!”

Claire nodded at NotEnrique’s advice, recalling her struggle when trying to escape the goblin horde.

“Get out of here. Get away. Be gone!” Blinky threw books at the smoke and the books never fell to the floor, and neither did the wind they generated cause the smoke to waver. AAARRRGGHH!!! yanked the door from its hinges and forced it over the smoke.

“Not the scruff!” Claire snatched up NotEnrique on her way out, and was followed by Blinky. AAARRRGGHH!!! picked up Toby and carried him out. The antramonstrum gathered enough of itself to force the door out of its way and pursued them.

 

•••

 

Strickler returned to the dining room and deposited the plastic bags on the table to sort through the contents. “Spring rolls, crab rangoons, ah-" He held out a carton with a set of chopsticks.

“Why thank you,” she beamed. Her eyes were still rimmed with red, but she tried to soak up the attention he gave her to bury the sorrow. She opened her carton with reverie. “Cashew chicken- have you been reading my diary? How did you know that was my favorite?”

“I figured it would go well with the wine,” he chuckled dismissively. He thought back to when he first showed Jim the apartment he would be staying at. As the boy cooked, he couldn't help but talk about his mother and the things he would miss about her, and Strickler couldn't help but listen.

 

•••

 

Darci took another bite of apple pie. She loved how Nana made it in such a way that a slice could be picked up like a piece of brownie. Nana continued her story. “The real fun happened when we witnessed an act of domestic violence. Oh, you bet your left back pocket we were so fast to call the cops. It felt good to know we had a hand in protecting our neighborhood.” She sighed dreamily as she peered out the window. “But I tell you, ain't anything sinister going on here. Just a lonely man feeling needed, and a poor mother with a hole in her heart, softening his.” Darci bit her lip to keep from revealing what she knew. Her phone alerted her to a text from Claire. She must have found something in Strickler's office. “Well, I'm going to go watch another detective episode. You keep watching those swallows and chickadees or whatever birds live around here. I guess bats will be coming out soon.”

 

•••

 

Cold air rushed past him. Toby couldn't see the stones that protruded near him until after they rushed past. His body was in a vice beyond his sight and he had no control over the direction he was rushing through the world.

“Who are you?” The flaming sphere bellowed as it chased him down.

“What's happening?”

“Who are you?!”

“Aaaaaaah!” The light glinted off a shard of obsidian as he flew headfirst toward a boulder of volcanic glass.

Suddenly he was blinded with light, and the echoes of his screams were stifled in the narrow halls of his high school. “I'm okay,” he declared as he observed the familiar setting and friendly faces.

A hissing down the hall drew closer. Black, narrow billows of smoke streaked across the ceiling, blocking the fluorescent lights. “I'm not okay,” he decided fearfully.

“AAARRRGGHH!!!, take Toby and NotEnrique and get out of here.” Claire tossed the changeling in his direction, who grabbed onto the mossy mane. Immediately they made their escape.

“I said watch the scruff!”

“Yes, and we'll lure it away from you.” Blinky waved his arms. “Follow us, you gaseous cretin!”

It sparked and hissed. Then it obeyed. Scholar and student sprinted down the halls. “So what do we do, Blinky?” Claire called out to him as they ran.

“We're luring it away!”

“And then what?”

“I don't know-" he turned down the hall with her. She had flashbacks to when she was trying to out run Bular.

“You don't know?”

“They're not native to the surface. There wasn't a reason for me to study them.”

“You play Chopsticks on piano. What was the reason for that?”

“A story for another time.”

At the end of the hall were the double doors to outside. “If we close the doors behind us, it would be trapped in the school, right?”

“Unfortunately it would behave as any gas would and expand. And I doubt this structure is airtight.”

The last thing she wanted to do was set the thing free. “Can it see?”

“I doubt it, it seems to sense its prey by feeling for changes in the air.”

Claire looked around. She pointed at the stone ring in his hand. “What did you say that thing did?”

“The fetch? It's a pinhole to the Darklands.”

Thoughts fired away in her mind. Perhaps the creature could sense the pressure in the air generated by the portal. “Then let's send it home.”

Together they held up the fetch. The  antramonstrum billowed and curled into itself before it charged at them. Claire cried out in anticipation. The vapors slammed into the portal braced by the troll and human, and though it was being fed into the portal, the force of it pushed the two back. Claire's shoes left skid marks, and Blinky’s feet scraped at the vinyl.

The double doors opened behind them with a clamour of worried voices and three more sets of hands found a grip on the fetch. With the support of AAARRRGGHH!!!, Toby, and even NotEnrique, they stopped sliding. The cackling of the creature contended with the cackle of the portal, yet the sound from each diminished as the hallway cleared.

Finally the smell of smoke ceased and the lights shined brightly in the mundane hall. Claire sighed. “Good work, Trollhunters.” She looked at NotEnrique as she said it, smiling warmly. “You should probably head back before mom and dad notice you're gone.”

“Eh, right. Sis.” He leapt down from the large troll’s back and snuck out between the double doors.

“Thanks for coming back for us,” she said to AAARRRGGHH!!! and Toby.

“We're a team,” the boy beamed. He extended a fist to the troll, who in turn curled his paw into a fist to tap against his.

“Boom, boom.”

 

•••

 

“Oh my gosh,” Mary panted as she entered the bedroom. “He is a hopeless romantic! He knew her favorite food? He saved the dinner, and didn't directly criticize her cooking once. I almost forgot he was a bad guy.”

“You missed the kiss,” Darci announced.

“I what?! They-"

“Calm down, it's not like it was a lengthy session. They just definitely dig each other.”

Mary plopped onto the bed. “He's so good at pretending. The whole time he talked like Jim was dead.” She stared blankly at the ceiling. “What if he is?”

“But the point is that it's in question,” Darci reminded her, “and if Jim is dead, then Strickler had something to do with it.”

“Are we sure that's what Bular said? What if he's the one that's lying?”

Darci packed away her father's binoculars. “Seriously, Mare?”

“Strickler just sounded like such a nice guy that I want to root for him!”

The door to the bedroom opened and the chamber suddenly filled to capacity, AAARRRGGHH!!! being last to force his way through the doorway. “How'd it go,” Darci asked.

“We found a thing!” Toby brandished the fetch like a trophy.

“A few things,” Claire added.

“The late classmate was a changeling,” Blinky contributed.

“What?!”

“Hold up!” Toby's demeanor became aggressive. “There is no way that Jim was a changeling!”

“Tobias, it is in a changeling's nature to be deceptive in order to gain the trust of humans and secure their role-"

“I know Jim, he's not like that!” Toby stomped in anger. The girls looked warily at each other, and AAARRRGGHH!!!’s eyes frowned with concern.

Claire noticed his eyes begin to water. “It's been a long night, and we've made several discoveries. Let's get some rest and we can talk about it more tomorrow.”

“Good idea, Claire.” Darci muttered her agreement and touched a hand to Toby's shoulder as she passed him. “Call me if you need to talk.” He continued to fume, though he tried to look away before tears spilled. Mary mumbled as she gathered their things to leave.

Claire didn't know what to say to comfort Toby. She read herself that Jim had a hand in her brother getting kidnapped, and in that same journal was echoed his death once more. She couldn't claim to really know him, they spoke on the phone once since he moved and not at all before then. But Toby was best friends with him since Jim moved in across the street. To be told that the person he trusted had been a villain must have been devastating. She pointedly nodded at Blinky to leave Toby alone to deal with the emotional blow. Only AAARRRGGHH!!! and Toby were left, with the quiet whistle of Chompski’s snoring.

“Wingman okay?” The gentle giant finally broke the silence.

He didn't answer immediately. “Not really.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! looked around and his eyes settled on the console. “Go Go Sushi?”

Toby shook his head before answering. “Not in the mood.” He took a seat on the edge of his bed. The troll looked around for more ideas. He found Toby's top hat.

“Blood magic?”

“Not unless I can raise the dead.” AAARRRGGHH!!! regarded him with alarm. “It's a bad joke,” Toby assured. “I wouldn't actually bring him back. I just really miss him. And I can't believe that he’s one of them. He's my best friend. And he's good- I know he is!” Momentarily he reflected on the times that Jim stood up for him against Steve, and even for Eli. He recalled how maternal Jim was with his own mother since his father walked out on them. Toby exhaled and then looked up to the troll and genuinely considered AAARRRGGHH!!!’s dark past, and that even he changed sides. “Know what? Let's make some tuna rolls, Wingman.”

 

•••

 

Mr. Strickler stopped in the doorway of his office. He examined the destruction, valuable volumes and artifacts strewn across the room as if a scuffle had taken place. He picked up the door and leaned it up against the wall, slightly overlapping the doorway. He went to the glowing purple crystal and tapped at it before humming to himself.

The changeling on the top of the bookshelf clambered down. “I tried to stick to your plan, boss man, but they found the fetch.”

“We can't expect everything to go our way.” He took a seat at his desk. At least the children weren't terribly inconsiderate and most things were left where he intended them. “Isn't it past your bedtime?”

NotEnrique climbed up to the top of the desk. “Nah. The parents think I sleep through the night now.” Strickler reached in the drawer and withdrew the amulet from where NotEnrique had stashed it earlier. He examined its glow and soft ticking to be sure it was the legitimate one. He got up and made for the door again. “Where you going now?”

“I'll be making a peace offering to my apprentice.”

“The Atlas kid? You gave him two names,” NotEnrique referenced the notebook.

Strickler hummed to himself. “No, he took the name Nomura gave him. I think he's coming to terms with his humanity dying.”


	12. Chapter 12

The town square echoed the bell as the clock marked the time for humanity to be rivaled.

In the belly of the building where times passed are remembered still, the goblins chanted. Stricklander held up the amulet in offering. He walked down the grey stone tile aisle and kneeled.

“Open the bridge,” Gunmar instructed from the far side of the portal, which cast eerie shadows over the attendants.

Bular laughed and snatched the amulet from the changeling. “It would be my honor, father.” Stricklander resumed his place beside Nomura, in the front row of the goblin horde.

She rasped. “I'm not surprised your apprentice is absent. But where is the younger changeling?”

“He should be here.” Stricklander snarled at the nearest goblin. “Fragwa, take your brethren and fetch that vile little beast.”

In a single bound, Bular leapt to the top of the bridge. “For centuries, father, we have awaited your return. Tonight, we take back the surface lands. Tonight, we feast!”

“Waka chaka!” The goblins cheered in anticipation.

Bular used his stony claws to delicately attach the amulet into its place above the eye stone. Magic surged through the grooves of the structure, illuminating the depictions.

“Finally, after centuries of being in the Darklands….” Gunmar began to reach a claw through the portal impatiently.

Bular’s expression of eagerness morphed into agitation at the sounds of stones crumbling, though they were barely audible over the hum of magic. “Something is wrong.”

Stricklander stepped forward to be heard over the increasing cacophony. “Take out the amulet! Take it out now!”

Reluctantly, Bular reached his paw for the amulet, but a surge flared up.

“The portal is closing,” Gunmar wailed. “My son-"

“Father!”

“- What have you done?”

The magic died out. Gunmar’s silhouette vanished with the glow. The amulet defiantly dropped from its perch and chimed as it hit the ground. Stricklander was the first to it, turning it over to study it. The Trollish inscription reminded him of its functionality. Before he could relay his epiphany, Bular's claws found their way around his throat. “You said the amulet would open the bridge!”

“Bular, I know what we need.”

“What?”

Stricklander rasped from his neck being restricted. “The Trollhunter. The amulet won't work without her. She is the key!”

Bular turned his fury to the pink changeling. “Bring the Trollhunter to me,” he barked.

She bowed with a smirk. “It would be my pleasure.” She dismissed herself, and Stricklander was released with a toss.

Bular's glowing eyes bored through him. “Pray that you're right, impure, or Arcadia will burn in my fury.”

“She still has the fake amulet. Nothing will protect her now.” _Not unless I've severely miscalculated something,_ he thought to himself, for there was an uncontrollable variable on the loose.

 

•••

 

“I'm telling you, Suzy Snooze, give them an inch and they want the whole Sunday roast.” NotEnrique wrapped the stuffed bunny into his swaddle blanket to make a cushion and pulled out a magazine from the side of the mattress. “Sweat sock edition,” he drooled. “Plaid is back in season…” A sound disrupted the peace of night. The rocking chair tilted this way and that, and then the small dresser rocked, causing the stars cast by the night light to shudder in their artificial sky. A green blur like an apparition vanished from atop the standalone closet. The changeling rolled his eyes knowingly. “Fragwa, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

The goblin braced itself in the corner like a spider watching atop a web. “Cho bula, cho waka, meanda wa.”

“You know I don't understand that “waka” stuff.”

Fragwa leapt angrily onto the bars of the crib. It didn't like its drama to be dismissed. “Waka chaka!”

“Oh, Strickler sent you to come get me, eh? Well, who says I want to go. Maybe I'm starting to like it here.”

It growled.

“You insist? Right then. You don't want to see this, Suzy.” He held out the magazine and let the pages fall open. “Sweat sock edition?”

Fragwa let his tongue hang out as it drooled at the depictions. When the changeling's fist came through the papers, the force slammed the goblins jaw shut on its own tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but this baby ain't going quietly.” He leapt off the goblin’s head for height and swung from the mobile. The goblin cleared its head and pursued. NotEnrique was tactful to stay just a leap ahead, so when the goblin landed on the rocking chair after him, the movement threw off its pace. The changeling snuck beneath the chair and used enough force to fling the creature across the room. He tried to increase the distance between himself and his opponent. He leapt first onto the dresser, but by the time he jumped off the standalone closet, Fragwa caught up and latched onto his ankles and they fell together. NotEnrique thrusted  the goblin off himself into the wall. The force was enough to wiggle loose a single nail. The top shelf succumbed to the weight of sentimental decor, which overflowed onto the shelf below it, which also couldn't support the burden. It broke, and the cascade splattered the green monster.

“Definitely not childproof,” NotEnrique observed. More mumbling from outside reached his ears, and he stashed himself away into the closet. Fragwa’s comrades clambered through the window and sniffed around at the disarray. One of them located the remains of the leader and picked up the framed picture from the puddle. Bitterly it took a black marker to its face, leapt onto the windowsill, and called out its cry of vengeance. NotEnrique heard the horde echo its sentiments before they regrouped outside.

“Uh oh, Suzy. I think I got sis in trouble.”

 

•••

 

“So… baby goes in, changeling comes out. Can't get the changeling to go back in, so how else can we get the baby out?” Toby gestured at the glowing ring propped up on his desk.

“Unless we were to get a creature of appropriate size, with the intelligence to navigate the black labyrinth, to concede to cooperate, it is an impossible task.” Blinky sighed, his lower set of arms crossed pensively, an upper arm pat Toby on the shoulder.

“Gunmar,” AAARRRGGHH!!! added as he tapped away on the controller, the peppy music lightening the mood.

Toby brooded. “I couldn't bribe NotEnrique to to do it.”

“Of course not. With his familiar freed, not only would he be incapable of serving his purpose to the Order, but the mere task of accomplishing such a feat is perilous. It would be far easier to convince a creature that had never laid eyes on the somber terrain than to send back one that was reared in it.”

There was a sad chatter from within the dollhouse. Mournful imploring continued, and the gnome’s tone shifted to one of determination. The little soldier stepped boldly out of his house and put a hand to his forehead in salute. Toby dropped to his knees to address the gnome. “Chompski, no, it's too much to ask!”

He chattered assertively. His little mind couldn't be changed. He was found rope from Toby's magic tricks, and the fetch was laid on the floor, where the green magic cackled expectantly. The bed was turned on its side as a barricade.

Blinky stooped down to address the gnome. “I have sorely misjudged you. You are no vermin. You are a ver “man".”

Toby sniffled and reached into the dollhouse. “Wait! She has something to say.”

He held out the doll of Sally Go-Back. Gnome Chompski embraced her, and swayed her back in his arms and caressed her helmet, chattering assurances. He kissed her helmet affectionately and passed her back to Toby.

They took their places. The trolls and human cowered behind the bed frame. The gnome tested the knot in the rope and stood at the rim of the portal. He dove in. Toby fed the rope little by little. He announced each little detail of progress to the trolls with him. “So far so good… he tugged! I'm reeling him in!” He pulled back the rope. He yanked. It jerked forward, pulling him over the bed frame barricade.

“Wingman!” The larger troll grabbed the boy before his arms dipped into the portal. Blinky reached for the rope to help tug.

It snapped.

Toby's eyes widened in fear. “Oh, no!” He dove forward and forced his face through the portal that distorted his voice. “Chompski! No!” AAARRRGGHH!!! held him back, and Blinky tried to console Toby over the sacrifice of their gnome friend.

 

•••

 

“NotEnrique? What are you doing here?” Claire looked up over her knees from where she sat curled up in bed.

The changeling closed the door behind him and leapt to the foot of the bed. “A goblin came at me. I made mincemeat out of him, but now, the rest of them want their pound of meat. I'm lucky to have escaped with only a soiled diaper!”

“You invoked the wrath of goblin vengeance? What are you doing in my room, you expect me to save you?”

“They think you did it.”

“How did you pull that off?! I'm grounded from being out so late raiding Strickler's office- I can't even leave my room- how did you manage to frame me?”

“Speaking of frames, it was your picture they picked up from his remains.”

“You are despicable!” Their argument halted at the pattering from the roof. She got up from her bed and grabbed NotEnrique from the fur behind his neck.

“Easy on the scruff! Where are we going?”

“To Trollmarket. We have to draw the goblins away from here. I don't want my parents, or Draal and then my parents, to find out about them.”

“Bad idea…”

She hurried off the roof and into the woods with the changeling before she recited the incantation. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.  … for the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command! For the glory- why isn't this fickle thing working?” Around them seemingly from every tree branch were murmurs.

“It's working too darn well. You'd think you'd recognize a fake without someone having to point it out to- oof!” There was bark between his teeth. NotEnrique shook his head from the shock of being thrown at a tree.

“A _fake_?! What have you done? Start talking!” She stomped a foot into the soft earth.

“I had to! If I didn't switch it out, they would have fed me to Bular!”

“And now we're going to be eaten by goblins!” The chatter grew closer, and she realized that they were already surrounded. They couldn't outrun the horde. She kicked around at the ground to see what weapons mother nature had to offer. “Here,” she offered a handful of rocks to the changeling and held out her tree branch baton. “Stay close to me.”

She bat back the goblins as they dropped from the trees and leapt from the ground. They clustered closer around their victims.

 

•••

 

Bular and Strickler pondered over the bridge. Strickler shifted into his more comfortable human form and scratched his chin thoughtfully. Both glanced inquisitively at each other at the small chime of metal, then examined the amulet. Oddly, the rings were spinning. The movement caused the device to sway and tremble as the gears quickened.

Bular frowned at it. “That's odd…”

 

•••

 

The goblins were overwhelming them. She looked back at the little changeling behind her. He trembled, a rock on his fist and too many targets to keep up with. The goblins tried to jump at her in pairs. One bit through her makeshift bat and it splintered, so she kicked it in retaliation. She kicked another, and it clung to her ankle and fastened itself to the other leg as well, knocking her down. NotEnrique brought a rock down on its head and Claire scrambled back to her feet. She glanced around wildly and then reached a hand for the sky. “For the glory of Merlin, _where are you?"_

 

•••

 

“Why is it-" Bular leaned on the changeling's knowledge as the device hummed and rattled.

The medallion hovered. Instinctively Strickler grabbed it from the air, then yelped as it took him on a sporadic ride across the chamber and into a few walls like an airborne game of pinball. He lost his grip, and it danced around the troll who reached for it as though trying to catch a rogue butterfly. It blinded him in a flash of light and a burst of energy directed at his face to propel itself like a rocket straight through the roof, leaving a crumbling hole and a desperate troll roaring after it.

It soared to its place in the sky among the stars. Exponentially it's power increased and it broke the sound barrier. In clearer air the settings shifted around to locate its attuned bearer.

Making an arch like a speedy sun racing the day, it shifted gears repeatedly and sloped back to earth to build speed and adjusted its trajectory a foot away from the ground. It followed the clearest path, and disregarded the minor obstacles that were inconsequential.

A motorist heard the hum and glanced over his shoulder. The unusual sight of an airborne object triggered a flashback, and he tried to gun his Vespa, yelping fearfully. He failed to escape its path in time, and his mode of transportation was forced out from underneath him. His teeth found the asphalt again.

The blue object ricocheted off of the rails of the bridge, maintaining the direction of its target.

Another boy carried a stack of books that easily weighed more than he did, but he was so engrossed in the open volume in his hand as he walked he didn't hear the projectile. It caught his attention only when he found himself sprawled on the ground surrounded by disheveled books.

 

•••

 

The goblins clambered onto Claire and latched onto each other for a better grip. NotEnrique struggled to keep them from restraining him also, and so didn't have the power to come to her aid. Still, she held out faith as she held out her hand, reaching out for loyal assistance. A sparkle in her eye rewarded her determination, and the object found its mark in her open palm. A goblin desperately reached for the medallion from over her shoulder to pry it from its wielder.

She called out triumphantly. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!”

The goblins that restrained her yelped as they were forced back by a shield of radiance. The clinking metal rewarded her for the skill she demonstrated without its assistance, and channeled the energy on her behalf to finish the fight. The clearing was illuminated with flashes as bright as daytime as the corpses liquefied in midair like plasma. The number of attackers diminished, and the goblins were slower to attack her. At the sight of their comrades rapid deaths, the rest changed their minds and scampered.

When the threat had been eliminated, she checked on the well-being of the changeling. “Are you okay?”

NotEnrique did a full body shake much like a dog. “Thanks to you. How are you holding up?”

“It's not safe out here. They might come for you themselves when they realize the goblins aren't coming back. We need to get to Trollmarket.”

 

•••

  
  
The light of the portal in the canals faded as though it never existed. Silence followed

A shadow slipped through the bars of a nearby grate and dissolved into the darkness of the forest.

 

•••

 

“He's a scrappy creature,” Blinky assured. “If anyone can survive there, it's him.”

AAARRRGGHH!!! stood to the center of the room and sniffed. He went to the window and opened it. He sniffed hard.

Blinky frowned. “AAARRRGGHH!!! my friend, what is it?”

“Impure,” he growled.

“No way… NotEnrique?” Toby looked between the two trolls.

“Different impure,” AAARRRGGHH!!! assured, implying that it was a different individual than he'd ever encountered.

“Perhaps they're here to reclaim the fetch,” Blinky offered thoughtfully. “Tobias, allow us to do our duty as your guardians. Stay inside this time. If it turns out to be nothing, we'll return promptly. But if something sinister is afoot, we will wait until all is safe for us to retrieve you.”

“Stay inside. Gotcha.” Toby held two thumbs up and looked back warily at the fetch.

 

•••

 

The dark figure was quiet, and quick, but heavy footed for an assassin. He strayed a bit from the shadows for the sake of speed. But he wasn't quick enough. A paw reached out to clutch his loose clothing, and he flopped onto his back. He groaned from the force and AAARRRGGHH!!! stood over him as he studied his prisoner. When the stranger perceived him, he yelped.

Blinky emerged from behind the trunk that sheltered him. “Ah hah! Good catch, AAARRRGGHH!!! Now, to figure out what it is we-" he pulled back the hood and immediately stepped back in alarm.

It was like a fleshbag, but with troll tusks and horns, and cold icy eyes that slit in a way that was inhuman. It was bizarre to see something so squishy snarl like an animal. “Great Gronka Morka,” he exclaimed.

“What is it,” his partner inquired.

“I don't rightly know,” Blinky considered. It smelled like an impure, at least for the most part. It also reeked of goblin. As dangerous as things were getting with more changelings being revealed in their midst, and that goblins were very clearly on the enemy's side, he deduced that it too must be on the side of the Gumm Gumms. “We can't turn it loose,” he decided. “We have to show Vendel."

It addressed them in Trollish, though not kindly. _“Unhand me, barbarians.”_ True to the nature of an assassin, it tried to keep its voice lowered.

“Don't even think of escaping,” Blinky warned, “or my good comrade will have you torn limb from limb!”

“Limb from limb,” AAARRRGGHH!!! echoed.

“Onward, my fearsome friend.” His partner obliged, careful not to crush the prisoner as he carried him. He restrained the arms of the strange creature, which oddly went limp from defeat already. AAARRRGGHH!!! considered carefully how soft his victim was, nearly as soft as his wingman. He had to be wary about the pressure he applied, and he hoped the creature wouldn't call him on his bluff and discover his oath of peace.

Blinky began to open the portal to Trollmarket when the creature grunted and managed to slip out of AAARRRGGHH!!!’s grip. The stranger made a desperate run for a nearby grate, and Blinky curled into a ball to charge after it. But Blinky miscalculated, and collided with the creature, which hit the ground without so much as a twitch.

“Did you kill it?” AAARRRGGHH!!! placed a hand over his eyes afraid that his comrade finished the task he himself was afraid he'd accidentally commit. Fleshbags were so delicate, and although this one didn't seem human…

“No, it's still alive, just… more cooperative.” Blinky cradled it in his four arms, apparently regretting his previous display at his lack of caution. He removed the weapons from off its person, as well as its satchel, in which he stowed the items. He then passed the limp form onto his friend, who slung the body over his shoulder. They passed through the portal, the mosaic of stone reassembling itself to hide all trace of the magical abode.

Green eyes watched from a distance, their glow briefly extinguished with a blink.

 

•••

 

“Alright bottle breath, spill it.”

NotEnrique over exaggerated the action of rubbing the nape of his neck. Vendel was clearly unenthused about being disrupted at this time of night. When the changeling was reluctant to begin, the Trollhunter tossed the mundane copy of the amulet onto the slab beside him. He sighed. “Bular's got all the bridge pieces.”

Vendel stomped his staff. “All the pieces of Killahead?”

“Did I stutter?”

“So where is the bridge,” Claire demanded.

“If I knew, you think I'd be down in this dump?”

Vendel shifted his attention back to the more sensible one of the two. “We need to act, and fast.”

“Claire,” AAARRRGGHH!!! called out from the entry.

She whipped around in surprise. “Is everything okay? Where's TP?”

“There was impure spy. Toby at home.”

“If they send one, they'll send another. Go get Toby, please. Be careful.” The troll had a look of fear in his eyes at her words and rushed to finish the task. She turned back to Vendel.

“I'll look into it,” he exhaled as though fatigued. “Get that impersonator to talk before I get back and test my own methods on it.”

In Vendel's absence, Claire turned back to the changeling. “You don't want to go back, do you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You knew that I had the fake amulet. The goblins could've finished me. But you warned me instead.”

“Well… I ain't that heartless…”

“I know.” She smiled. “I don't know what they're planning next, but we need to rally our forces. I need you to get Draal, and you should probably stay home so our parents don't notice you're gone. Or you can stick around and see what Vendel has planned.”

“Summon the forces! Aye, aye!” He saluted her and scrambled away.

Vendel returned. “It's worse than what AAARRRGGHH!!! said. I don't even know what this thing is. Neither does Blinky, for that matter.”

 

•••

 

“Back away from the prisoner,” she instructed. A guard held a gnome in his fist, prepared to launch it into the cage, but at her command let the vermin go and stepped away from the cell, as did the other guard.

As she entered the room, she muttered the incantation and her armor materialized across her body. The cloaked form from behind bars commented casually in Trollish. _“It would be an honor to be felled by your radiance.”_

As she drew closer to the cage, she recognized the form of the stalker that hid among the trees with the goblins. If this was the Jareth that she read about in the notebook, she owed him her life. Yet it had been his job to replace her brother. “I don't intend to kill you.”

Seemingly surprised, he straightened up from behind the bars. _“You understand the stone tongue?”_

_“Enough to understand your answers.”_ That voice… “You seem familiar… _who are you?”_

_“I am what I am.”_

A guard swore at him and she scolded the guard. _“You know where my brother is? Tell me.”_

_“Your brother?”_

_“He was switched with a changeling after Jim told the Order. He's a changeling himself, isn't he? A trickster, like you.”_

The creature bowed his head, his face still shrouded in the shadow of his hood. _“Jim wouldn't do that. Your brother is safe. He's in the Darklands.”_

_“How can he be safe?”_

_“The changeling nursery is the safest place in the world. Not a scratch will come to him.”_ He bowed his head lower. _“I'm sorry, I didn't know.”_

Suddenly the notes made less sense. Under what circumstances did this Goblin King fulfill his task he didn't know he possessed? _“You didn't take him?”_

_“No.”_

That answer inspired more questions than answers. _“Why were you following me?  You protected me from the stalkling. Why?”_

_“I didn't know you were the Trollhunter.”_ So saving her life was accidental? But he didn't come across as one of her enemies that wished death on her.

She suspected there was some other motive. _“You're very strange.”_ She stepped forward to see him better in the dim lighting. She could see a blue glow from his eyes under his hood. Eyes that didn't look away from her own. They were familiar. “Jim.” His pupils dilated at the syllable. “It's you isn't it?”

His eyes were sorrowful. For a second her eyes imagined the rest of his face, the face of her classmate. The face of her long distance Romeo who exchanged lines with her over the phone. The face of the boy in her dream with the silvery mask. But he winced. _“Who is this Jim you speak of? My name is Jareth.”_

It was him. It had to be him. In somnis veritas; there was truth in the dream after all. “A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.”

She saw his expression falter once more, and then his eyes darted to the exit behind her. _“Slay me, light clad one. I know that is your purpose. If you don't, they will, and if they don't, the Gumm Gumms will. If you are merciful, you will end me now.”_ Despite his poetry, she could see it was an act. He intended no conflict, only to escape.

Similarly to how his pupils gave away his emotion, his eyes glowed brighter when he looked once more at the entrance. “Jimbo,” she heard Toby call out, and her speculations were confirmed. She couldn't think of another time she saw Toby run so fast, even from the antramonstrum, and the stranger in the cage regarded him with the same familiarity.

“It's you, Tobes-"

“- You're not dead!” Toby ran up to the cage and the two boys reached through the bars of the cage for each other. AAARRRGGHH!!! stopped warily behind Claire as he watched the interaction.

The boys kept evaluating the well-being of the other and greeting each other. Claire folded her arms. Jim was no changeling; he couldn't hide his own identity much less take on another. Finally he looked back to her, and spoke in English this time. “I'm sorry I lied, Claire. I didn't want you to remember me like this.”

Her eyes glistened. “Are you kidding?! I thought Strickler killed you!”

“You wouldn't be far from the truth.”

“Let down our guest,” she commanded the guards. They were reluctant and mumbled their incredulity, but they obeyed. Blinky looked at her, stunned.

“Master Claire, are you out of your mind? Just because it knows English does not make this your friend. It could very well be a changeling impersonating your friend. He even carries one of their masks.” With one of his hands he removed the mask from the satchel to display to her.

“No, Blinky, it's definitely him. Did you hear his suicide speech? Only Jim would talk like that.”

Toby puffed up his chest. “It's definitely him. I’d recognize him anywhere!”

When the cage was opened, Jim regarded the guards warily. He managed a few steps before Toby latched his arms around his friend. Jim laughed warmly at the display of affection. “I missed you, Tobes.”

“I can't believe you're alive! I mean, I can, I knew that explosion was hoaky, but we didn't know if he actually killed you after that.”

Claire couldn't help but smile wide at the reunion. “You're with friends now, Jim. You can drop the hood.”

The glow in his eyes dimmed, and the little bit of his expression that they could see seemed to fall. He looked around at them cautiously, and reluctantly, slowly, lifted the hood and let it fall around his neck.

Toby gasped long and loud. Claire didn't notice the tear that slipped from her own eye. He looked down with slitted pupils. He pressed his lips together anxiously, but the task was made difficult with the tusks at the corners of his mouth. “What have they done to you,” she uttered.

His eyes avoided hers as he shrugged. “They didn't. This,” he gestured at himself, “this is the real me.”

Toby audaciously tapped at his off-white horns. “Woah, stone. Like a troll.”

Blinky apologetically offered the satchel to the guest. “And what exactly are you, Jim?”

He sighed and looked away. “I think my father was a changeling. I'm a hybrid.”

“That's possible?” Blinky looked to AAARRRGGHH!!! incredulously.

Toby slapped his hands to his cheeks and jumped up and down. “Your mom! Your mom still thinks you're dead!”

“It's going to have to stay that way, at least until after we figure out how to stop the release of Gunmar, or there would be no point.” He looked dejected remembering his mother and his intentions to betray her still. Claire rest an armored hand on his shoulder.

“We'll find a way. We'll stop Gunmar and find a way to let your mom know you're okay.” A tear fell from his eyes as he considered the possibility and she took hold of his arm. The armor dissolved and she caught the amulet and pocketed it. “C’mon, let's show you around.”

Toby pulled at Jim's other arm with enthusiasm. “You've got to see the place, Jimbo. It's awesome sauce!”

 

•••

 

NotEnrique did his best to sneak in, but the watchful goblins sounded the alarm when he was detected. He scurried across the rafters and down the columns of the museum to join the changeling leader, who looked ready to strangle him. “Call off the search parties, I made it-"

“And where have you been?” Strickler snarled through his human throat.

“Tryna not get captured like your other agent.”

Strickler faltered. “... which agent?”

“I didn't see ‘em, but it's got Trollmarket all worked up.”

Strickler rubbed a hand over his eyes. Nomura wouldn't have been so careless, and it occurred to him that the uncontrollable variable was now in the control of the other party.

NotEnrique studied Stricklander’s uneasiness. “Is it your apprentice?”

“It doesn't matter much anymore. He's as good as dead now. Nomura is fetching the Trollhunter as we speak.”

 

•••

 

Metal clashed with metal. The combatants grunted with force. She managed to push away her assailant. The otherworldly glow in his eyes stayed trained on her and in the instant before she could reclaim her balance, he swiped from the side. She did a pirouette to avoid his blade and bring hers back behind him. With the flat of her blade she struck him and he fell forward from the momentum. He rolled back onto his feet, laughing, and spun around to guard against her next attack.

Claire huffed instead. “How'd you get so good?”

Jim rested his hands on his knees as he panted. “Are you kidding? You'd totally beat me in battle.” Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't help but grin.

Up until that point Toby had been gripping at what was left of his Nougat Nummy bar, hoping his friends wouldn't accidentally kill each other. When the fear of death passed, he shoved what was left of the melting chocolate into his mouth. “You guys are so cool!” He swallowed. “Jim, how did you learn to fight like that? We went to gym together, and they did not teach us that in school!”

Jim cringed at the memory and shrugged it away. “I basically had my butt handed to me over and over. I don't recommend it.”

“Basically,” Claire agreed knowingly.

“I've worked up an appetite just watching you. I'll be right back, I think I left some snacks at Blinky’s.” He got up and dusted his pants, but before he left, he pointed a finger at the hybrid. “Don't die on me again, Jimbo."

“I don't plan on it.”

Toby left the arena with a spring in his step. He considered the stash of candy bars he'd built up in Blinky’s library without his knowledge and the newest variation of Nougat Nummy that had come out in the time that Jim was gone. AAARRRGGHH!!! approached him with an air of urgency. “What's up, Wingman?”

“Old trolls arguing.” He helped Toby onto his back and took him back to the Heartstone where Vendel and Blinky were disputing.

“They insist it's their late classmate-"

“And if it is him, then it would mean that they've befriended an impure before his true nature was revealed. That does not change his nature-"

“He claims to be a hybrid, he can't even change forms-"

“An impure is an impure is an impure.”

Toby recognized the subject of their discussion and spoke before his presence was even announced. “Hey, Jim's cool, I'm sure there's a logical-"

“Good, you're here.” Toby had never heard that sequence of words from Vendel before. “Go fetch the “guest". I don't trust him to be wandering through Trollmarket, inciting a panic with his mere presence.” Oh. AAARRRGGHH!!! relayed that he should stay behind to keep the peace among the trolls. Toby turned back to the forge, candy-less.

 

•••

 

The large chamber was filled with tension. Toby took up the task of breaking the ice. Addressing Jim beside him, he gestured to each of the other attendees at the rendezvous. “This is AAARRRGGHH!!!”

The large troll held up three fingers. “Three Rs. Sorry, wingman friend.” He pat the hybrid on the head, who trembled under the force.

“Blinky, at your service,” the adjacent troll offered.

“I am Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred.” Vendel looked sternly at the newcomer.

“... I'm Jim, son of Barbara.”

“And that's everyone,” Toby finished. “Except Draal the Deadly, son of Kanjigar, the last Trollhunter. Wasn't he supposed to come?”

Claire answered. “I told NotEnrique to get him when he went home. Maybe he can't sneak past my parents.”

“Yeah, I can't see Draal sneaking.”

“I don't like this,” Vendel interrupted. He glared between the humans and their mutant friend. The girl had on what Vendel recognized as silvered spectacles, a generous peace offering or bribe from the stranger, depending on his intentions. “He carries the insignia of the treacherous spies. He's only here to give red herrings.”

To his disgust, the Trollhunter was quick to defend him. “Even AAARRRGGHH!!! left the Gumm Gumms, why can't Jim?”

“Um, sore subject,” Toby pat his friend's stony shoulder.

The mutant spoke up. “I don't want anymore humans to die for a war they have no part in.”

Vendel grumbled under his breath as he measured the boy. He took in the odd traits, the slitted irises, the tusks, the horns that curled back, which were the color of charred bone. No matter his intentions, he was just a whelp. Vendel finally consented to them speaking openly in front of the unlikely visitor.

Claire began with the results from their endeavors the night before. “I looked up the coordinates for the bridge based off of Strickler's notes, it's a warehouse over off of the strip in-"

“No it's not,” the hybrid interrupted. “If you go to the warehouse, they'll ambush you.”

Vendel was already tired of his impudence. “Well if you're so knowledgeable, where's the bridge?”

“In the museum.”

“It can't be,” Claire countered. “After we found it, they moved it-"

“To a lower level, where you wouldn't think to look for it. But if you go, you'll be handing them exactly what they need to open the portal. If you want to win, you can't go there.”

“But my brother-"

“But Gunmar!” Blinky threw up his hands. AAARRRGGHH!!!’s breathing became agitated. “He simply must not be released! As this Jim had stated, your brother is safe for the time being.

Vendel considered the boy. Perhaps his intentions were innocent, and yet it was the changelings playing him. “The bridge must be destroyed,” the leader reiterated.

“I concur,” answered Blinky.

Claire brooded, a fire behind her eyes that her brother was sentenced to eternity in the Darklands. Vendel was surprised by the boy's tenderness to her. “All we need is a fetch. The goblins listen to me, I can get them to find him and bring him back. We can destroy the bridge and still save your brother.” The girl's expression made the dynamic between the two clear to the old troll. The danger with this boy was not that he was a traitor, but that there were certain sentiments between the two.

Toby unintentionally disrupted the moment. “Funny you should say that, we got one just yesterday! We've already got Chompski on the mission, but I'm sure he'd appreciate the company. Goblins don't eat gnomes, do they?”

“It's settled then. The task at hand is to destroy the bridge without ourselves being destroyed.” Vendel regarded the Trollhunter, who nudged her friend with an elbow.

“I think we can be more low-key than that. Huh, infiltrator?”

Jim nodded nervously. “I can talk to the changelings and see if I can get them to break their alliance with the Gumm Gumms.”

Blinky scoffed. “With what authority?”

“As second in command.” Vendel stared hard at him. This whelp was second in-

“Second in command?” He shifted his gaze to Claire. She too looked surprised. He looked to Blinky next. “And you! You brought him straight here!”

“Now see here! How much worse would it have been if we'd turned him loose?”

“And you permitted him to get a full tour-"

Toby pat Jim on the shoulder as the trolls argued. “Now you're a double-agent, big honcho for the good guys!”

Blinky had to kill the fantasy before it got too out of hand. “It won't work.”

Toby contended with the troll. “So? Let Jimbo have a chance, and if it doesn't work, we'll go in blazing! We know where the bridge is. What's the worst that could happen, they tell him no?” The hybrid’s eyes grew dark at the prospect, but he didn't vocalize his fears.

“How are we to trust he won't simply sell us out,” Vendel reasoned.

Toby was quick to defend him. “It's Jimbo! I would trust him with my-"

Jim cut him off. “You can't. Changelings aren't trustworthy. But isn't this the best option we have at survival?”

Vendel glowered at him. “Why, he even talks like them. I have half a mind to lock him back up, and it may well be the sensible half.”

“Great, I'll last another minute in the trollpocalypse in the shelter of a cage. Excellent suggestion.”

Claire intervened, hands up to calm the males back down. “Jim goes to the Order, which can't do anything without the amulet. If he can convince them, he comes back to tell me or Toby, and we can meet back up here to discuss what happens next.”

“I call dibs,” Toby interjected. Jim squeezed an arm around his friend's shoulders.

“And if he brings back an assassin?”

“Then I'll have Draal kick his butt.”

“That won't be necessary,” Jim assured.

Vendel looked at the boy to measure his response to the next prospect. “And if they don't agree to end the alliance with the Gumm Gumms?”

“I do fear that is the likeliest scenario,” Blinky contributed.

The boy's eyes dimmed, confirming his fear. “Then we're exactly where we are now. No closer, no further.” Vendel continued to calculate him. Either the boy was blinded by his affections or had a death wish. But it wasn't in Vendel's place to stop the boy from his suicide mission.

 

•••

 

Claire opened the portal leading back to the surfaces and turned back to the boys as they hugged goodbye. “It will take time to get them to trust you, but someday we'll get you a horngazel, too.” Jim smiled warmly at her offer. She didn't feel right letting him go. She still recognized the anxious boy behind the tusks and high rank, the timid rumble of his voice that made her heart flutter when she rehearsed lines with him. He had been as far away as across the country and the other side of the grave, and yet as near as a shadow. After all this time of wondering and speculating about his well-being, she was asking him to leave again. “Thanks for doing this.” She made up her mind and pecked him on the cheek. “Good luck. And don't die again.”

He was stupefied. With a gentle nudge from her, his momentum carried him through to the other side of the portal, his eyes still wide at her expression of affection.

“So, is it time for a status update?” Toby nudged Claire in the arm.

Claire rolled her eyes at him. Her next tact was going to change Toby's perspective of what just took place.

 

•••

 

“The TrollHunter’s heart is as soft as the boy's hide. She'll endanger all of Trollmarket with her trust in the mutant. It was reckless to permit him to leave now that they have the bridge assembled-"

“It will be the TrollHunter’s compassion that delivers us-" Blinky assured.

“Directly into the hands of our enemies.” Vendel sighed heavily. The soft steps of humans reached his ears and he halted the discussion. The trolls kept their peace even after the humans entered the chamber.

Claire spoke first. “Let's be real. You don't trust Jim.”

“Indeed,” Vendel responded quickly.

“I don't blame you.”

“What?” Toby's jaw dropped at Claire's statement.

“Isn't it weird? First, NotEnrique replaces the amulet. Jim shows up from out of the blue when I get it back. NotEnrique doesn't return.”

Toby was perplexed. “Then why would you do it? Why did you agree to let him go?”

“Because if I'm wrong, and NotEnrique and Jim both have a change of heart, then there's division within the Order. There's no way the changelings would break their alliance with the Gumm Gumms, but that won't be necessary if they break apart themselves. If I'm wrong, then the only way to learn what trap they've placed for us is to spring it.”

Vendel exhaled. “I'm sorry I doubted your wisdom.”

“Apology accepted. Let's call the rest of the TrollHunters and catch them up to speed.”


	13. Chapter 13

A door opened. Bular perked up. Nomura entered the chamber, dragging a body behind her. She flung it forward to the center of the floor. Bular sniffed and snarled. “That's not the Trollhunter.”

“She took shelter in Trollmarket and sent this one out in her stead. She'll come for him.”

The troll snorted doubtfully. “A half breed? How can you be so sure?”

Nomura fixed her gaze on Stricklander as she answered. “Humans have soft spots for rejects.” She barked orders at the most recent Fragwa, and the goblins collaborated to bring her rope.

“I have little patience left for your methods, impures. It'll be the Trollhunter or your lives.” Bular grumbled his threats and departed, likely to find some prey to remind himself of his own power.

Strickler watched Nomura work the ropes expertly. “If she came for an impure, would you be jealous?” She ignored his underhanded inquiry and focused on her task. “I don't know why you take so much pleasure in this.”

“Because I was right.” She yanked a knot and Strickler involuntarily flinched.

“He's still primarily flesh.”

“You've beat him harder in training.”

“It was training. He was conscious.”

“I know what I'm doing.” She rolled her prisoner onto his back and shifted attention to the next task. She fed a rope to a goblin to drape over a rafter in the ceiling. Strickler discreetly stood closer to Jim to see that the ropes weren't too tight and yet wouldn't give out. The boy shifted his head slightly and struggled to open his eyes. “...dad…” Jim closed his eyes again.

Strickler's heart caught in his throat. He closed his eyes and held his breath before he glanced to his colleague. If fate was kind enough, she didn't hear-

Her expression communicated that her long ears picked up on the syllable just fine. “He's dreaming,” Stricklander assured.

Nomura scowled at him. “That's not your dream come true for you?” She pulled down the rope the goblin fed her from the rafters. “Something no other changeling can ever have: an heir.” She leapt down from her roost on the bridge and brought her face close to his. “Tell me I'm wrong.”

“You're wrong.”

“You're a good liar. You believe yourself half the time.” She smirked at him before she finished up her work.

•••

 

It made Claire nervous for her brother's crib to remain empty. Her brother had been absent for days, of course, but currently it was the absence of his impersonator that made her extremely wary. She tiptoed back to her room, fearing she'd have to come clean to her mother in any degree about the empty crib.

She sat on the chevron patterned comforter of her bed, knees curled to her chest.

She wanted to trust Jim. He offered to help her get her brother back, and she wanted to believe that he would follow through with it. She wanted to cling to the hope that her brother was coming home.  She wanted to believe that Jim was on her side. However, she couldn't ignore that neither changeling had returned. Perhaps something happened to them? No, this would have been part of the trap. She was meant to assume that they were in peril and carelessly go to rescue them and consequently give up the amulet. They were tricksters. Manipulators. And if they weren't, either would return as soon as they could. Dare she hope-

There was a scratch at her window as NotEnrique carelessly tapped a claw to the glass in an attempt to open the window. She eagerly went to help him in, since he struggled a little with an object in his mouth.

“Are you okay? I thought something happened to you when you weren't back…” her voice trailed at the pained look in his face. He held out for her the device. It was a recorder. Rather than ask, she took it and hit play. It was Jim's voice.

“Claire, they've captured me and want you to come to the bridge alone- don't do it, it's a trap!”

“Give me that!” Strickler. “It seems things have grown awkward, miss Nuñez. Meet me in the alley behind the theatre if you ever want to see your friend again.”

“I can't lose you again. Don't open the bridge!”

Claire hit stop on the recording. She glowered at the changeling. A blue gleam filled her eyes to reflect the armor that responded to the fiery rage building within her. “Don't slice the messenger,” NotEnrique pleaded.

She squeezed her free hand into a fist and winced, struggling to deactivate the armor. She exhaled through pursed lips and finally it obeyed. The amulet tinged and fell into her palm before it was shoved away in a pocket. She began to storm out of the room. “Are you going there now?”

“I need to cool off before I end up teaching a baby how to fly from a second story window.” He gulped, and took his cue to retreat to his room via the roof.

 

•••

 

Toby's room was oddly quiet. The chatter and music of the gnome had been replaced with the silence of the Fetch, which was propped expectantly on the desk.

Claire's stomach churned from the knots of guilt and shame that wrenched at her. “I shouldn't have asked him to go. This is my fault.”

Toby took the news pretty hard. “I just got him back,” he whimpered. He looked morosely at his open hands on his lap, unwilling to make eye contact and reveal that he was fighting tears once more.

Darci remarked. “But what if Jim is in on it? On one hand, he'd actually be okay, and you don't have to worry about him. You did say he claimed to be second in command, right?”

“This would have been so romantic if he was the one that had to save you.”

“That's what you have to say, Mary?” Darci shook her head and covered her eyes.  

Toby spoke meekly to Claire. “You don't have to do this alone. You've got all of us.  Blinky. Draal.”

Claire winced. She knew Toby hated her for what she said last night. She herself didn't believe her words, but trolls weren't easy to pacify. Had Jim not left, she couldn't guarantee that she could keep him from getting imprisoned again, or worse. Once this was resolved, she owed Toby a bulk package of candy bars. “They said I had to be alone. If I'm not, what will they do to Jim?”

“I don't know how you feel about him, but he's my friend, and it's our fault that he's in danger.”

“You're not to blame, TP. I am. And I'm going to make this right.”

 

•••

 

“Why do you need to go it alone?” Draal stood with his arms crossed, leaning against the wall in the kitchen as he watched her. The parents had taken Enrique to run errands before they would attend the play that evening.

“Because this is the only way that this will work. Trust me on this, Draal.” Claire sifted through the drawers of miscellaneous items.

“I trust you, but I also fear for you. You are walking into a den of death. For what, an impure?”

“... would you not have done the same?” For a moment there was softness in his eyes when he regarded her. There was something in their exchange of glances that spoke volumes, but he tried to cover over it with a scoff. “Do you remember what you're going to tell everyone when they start to wonder where I am?” She withdrew an object from the drawer. “Here it is.”

The troll followed her through the door to the garage. The garage door opened out onto a cloudy day that guaranteed rain. Claire clipped her helmet on as she broke the silence. “For what it's worth, I hope you're the next Trollhunter.”

“And I hope it won't come to that.” Claire let her shoulders sag as she exhaled, and she reached up to hug him as best as one could hug a wall. Becoming more accustomed to her expressions of affection, he hugged her back with a soft smile.

 

•••

 

Claire made it to the alleyway before she received the call.

“Uh, C-bomb, why am I the only Trollhunter here?”

“Can you stall for me, Mare? I promise I'll be there for call time.”

“You're pathological!” There was ruckus in the background. “One second! You better not die.”

 

•••

 

Mary exhaled deeply. She needed to be extra enough, but not so much that she couldn't salvage what would be left of her reputation when the dust settled. She cleared her throat so she could better project her voice. “He dumped me?! The tragedy! How could he do this to me! Why, Dean?! Why!”

Ms. Janeth called from the other side of the door. “Can this wait until Tybalt is slain? “Some grief shows much of love, but much of grief shows still some want of wit"...”

Mary wailed all the louder.

“Oh dear…”

 

•••

 

Claire hung her helmet onto the handlebar and stowed the bike away beside the dumpster. She checked the time on her phone once more. As she glimpsed up, she watched a figure run past in the rain, a passing truck, and beyond it, Strickler standing in the middle of the road like an apparition.  

He calculated her with a glance. “So you did come alone.” He approached, his demeanor the typical strut of a well polished professor. “You always were good at following instructions.”

“Where is Jim.” Regardless of how convincing his facade, she was tired of playing games with the shape shifter. Her balance was thrown off as something grappled onto her from behind. A goblin’s grubby little hands searched her pockets. Finally it withdrew the amulet from her purse and tested it in its teeth.

“Is it the real one?”

“Cha-ching,” it answered with a sneer.

“It looks like all is in order. Follow me. This will be over soon.” Fragwa leapt off of Claire and dove back into the shadows. Strickler expectantly held the umbrella out to help cover her from the rain. The gesture twisted knots into her stomach.

They crossed the street and walked a little ways through the park. “The museum? The bridge was here the entire time?”

“After we moved it, we knew it would be the very last place you'd look.”

So Jim was right. She felt cruel for having doubted him. But she would make it right- she was going to rescue him.

 

•••

 

“She won't come. I already warned her. She knows everything.” Jim was suspended upside down, his limbs bound together.

The rumble of laughter erupted from Bular at their arrival. Magic sizzled behind Claire as Strickler shifted forms. Fragwa scurried to the sidelines. “No, Claire, I told you not to come!”

“You promised you'd see the play,” she smiled, but her lighthearted demeanor was only surface level. She turned to Bular. “Now let him go, I brought the amulet.”

In response, Bular swung a blade and pointed the tip at Jim. “Open the bridge. I will not ask again.”

The smallest changeling shuffled out of her path so she could climb the scaffolding and cargo boxes that sloped up to the top of the bridge. “Sorry, sis. It's just business.” She climbed up the crude steps and pulled herself up each tier of crates and boxes.

Jim did everything in his power to deter her. “Don't do this, Claire! If you release Gunmar, and his army of Gumm Gumms, you would be endangering everybody! Think of your family! Think of your friends! Everyone in Trollmarket- how will you save your brother if there's no home for him to come back to?”

She paused with the amulet held inches away from the surface of the stone. There was a flash of pain on her face at his words. Quickly she replaced it with a wink. She took a step back and pulled out a whistle and blew. Nomura glared at Strickler. “You said the Trollhunter was alone!”

“Not Trollhunter,” Claire corrected. “TrollHunters.” The tarp that blocked the exhibit fell. Framed in the doorway were the summoned TrollHunters, AAARRRGGHH!!!, Blinky, Draal, Toby and Darci.

Toby had on a bizarre getup made of school lunch trays, a cooking pot for a helmet, something like a jetpack made from fire extinguishers, with a music player strapped onto his chest. Darci had on stolen padding from the football team and a helmet. Both carried bats.

“I am Toby! Grandson of Nana! Fan of hard rock!” He hit the button. Soft jazz slowed their role.

“And I am Darci, daughter of detective Scott, here to kick- Toby, that's the wrong one.”

“I'm fixing it! No, let me, you passed it. There!”

Papa Skull began to play. Claire took her cue. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command!”

Bular trembled with rage. “Kill them all!” He swung a blade down at Claire, who blocked it.

Draal took the initiative, rolling up the scaffolding to commence hand to hand with Bular, Claire stepping aside at the last second to give him clearance. “I am Draal the Deadly, son of Kanjigar, and you will suffer for my father's death!”

Toby bellowed, “kill them all!” He crashed full force into Nomura, Darci beating after the changeling who yelped in surprise.  
NotEnrique seized the opportunity to surprise punch Fragwa. “I didn't mean to do that!”

“Bad baby!” Stricklander kicked NotEnrique across the room. Darci continued to occupy Nomura, so Toby charged at Strickler, screaming. The knowing, stern tone of a teacher delivered his warning. “Toby Domzalski, you are in way over your-" his words were halted with a yelp and a whimper.

“Rule number three!” Toby stated defiantly.

The goblins swarmed Claire, who swatted them away with Daylight. Jim tried to help in the only way he could. “Mutton Chops, stop that! Greg, don't- you deserved that! Waka seen- dacka! _Seen dacka_! Wada pu!”

It occurred to Claire that a competent fighter would be no good to them if he remained bound. “TP! Help Jim!”

Toby collaborated with Wingman, who launched him into the air.

Simultaneously Draal managed to knock Bular onto his back off the bridge.

AAARRRGGHH shortly after occupied Nomura, who chased after him throwing her khopesh. AAARRRGGHH receded to the higher floor to draw her away. She struck like a viper, all the while he dodged her blades or braced against their bite with his broad arms. Down the hall, the goblins forced Darci in his direction. She held out the bat, ready to swipe.  

“So this is how a pacifist fights?” Nomura scolded the troll as she sliced through the tapestries he threw between them for cover. In the bustle, Darci and AAARRRGGHH made eye contact and nodded at each other. A goblin flew at Darci. She struck it towards AAARRRGGHH, who moved a tapestry just in time to clear its path at Nomura. It was launched into her blade and its remains splattered. The other goblins responded accordingly, shifting their target from Darci to the changeling.

“No, this is,” AAARRRGGHH!!! answered.

“Not again!”

Strickler shook off the pain and reached for a saber mounted on the wall.

As Claire swat away at the goblins art the top of the scaffolding, Strickler flanked her, though she stopped his blade in time with Daylight.

Stricklander grunted at the force. “I'll give you an A for effort, but you're going to fail this exam!”

NotEnrique scurried around the battlefield and stopped short at the crash of the trolls.

Bular and Draal’s wrestling exceeded the integrity of the scaffolding which began to give in beneath Claire and Stricklander.

NotEnrique barely dodged the rubble of the collapsing structure. The moment he thought he could take a breath however, he found himself confronted with a goblin.

“Chaka.” _Traitor_.

Meanwhile Jim huffed irritably. “What's taking so long, Tobes? Are you using the sharp side?”

“I know how a knife works!” He took a moment to examine the blade. “Oh shoot. There we go.” He sawed away a bit more rapidly to compensate for lost time.

Bular at this point managed to land an uppercut on Draal. “Like father, like son,” he chided, but before he could deliver the final blow, he was struck from the side. It was AAARRRGGHH, who slammed his fists to the ground in challenge.

They charged each other and rammed their horns together.

Draal clambered to his feet and noticed Claire and Strickler going at it on top of the bridge. As he began to join the fray, Nomura leapt in the way. “Care to rekindle what we had, Draal?”

“Rekindle this!” They danced once more, a fire in their eyes.

Bular laughed in the face of AAARRRGGHH. “If my father were to see you now! You were a killer! A general! You're not a pacifist. You're a pet!” AAARRRGGHH blinked away the rage that threatened his vision.

Claire and Strickler danced in circles, blades flashing every which way. She leapt to the ledge and dove forward, reaching for the rope suspending Jim and Toby. She cut them loose and her momentum swung herself around.

The two of them managed to land on the Fragwa of the last two minutes. The other goblins surrounded them. Jim groaned at the realization. “Oh no. Waka seen-dacka!” Toby looked wide eyed at the monsters that surrounded them.

“Wacka pu, da meench.” Jim growled at its insult. Now that he wasn't suspended upside down, he could manage enough force to tear through the ropes that were weakened by Toby's earlier attempt, empowered by the rage of betrayal.

Claire prepared herself from the rope to strike Strickler, but he anticipated her. He threw her out of alignment and down the side of the bridge. She was disoriented.  Strickler managed to overpower her, using her own hand to remove the amulet from her armor and install it into the eye stone. “No!” She strained against his grip on her.

“Claire!” Jim disregarded the traitorous insubordination and dashed past Toby, who made a valiant effort to keep the goblins at bay to buy him time.

The radiance of the amulet spread through the grooves all across the surface of the bridge. The light ceased momentarily, then faded back again. A black vortex sucked the glow of the surrounding area, and then all the debris.

The last goblin that threatened NotEnrique was first to lose its grip to the force of wind. NotEnrique clawed into the ground. “Hey, people! The Bridge!” All around him, they were immersed in their scuffles. “I ain't ready to let go of this world yet!” He lost his grip, but his momentum put him just past the mouth of the portal, where he managed to grip to the stone of the bridge. He crawled across the surface, over the glowing faces and inscriptions, barely dodging another goblin that fell victim to the bridge's hungering mouth. “Seriously, is no one gonna turn this blasted thing off? Fine, I'll do it!”

“Not many people are lucky enough to say they were there when history was made,” Stricklander lectured Claire, who writhed under his grip to undo the damage. Strickler noticed movement from the corner of his eye as Jim charged at him. Their horns butted together, and Strickler coupled Jim's momentum with a swipe at his legs to swing him over the side of the bridge while he tried to keep the Trollhunter restrained. Jim was thrown just far enough that he could still grip onto the ledge, where he swung over the amulet. NotEnrique managed to not be swept aside, and the two of them locked eyes.

Together they reached for the glowing artifact and cried out from the pain. Magic arched across their bodies in bolts. The force threw them back across the room.

Though Nomura was trapped under Draal’s paw against a column, she extended a hand at the spectacle. “Killahead Bridge! The time is now!” Draal roared in defiance.

Gunmar called out to his son from the vortex. “Father!” AAARRRGGHH had Bular up against the wall. He looked back over his shoulder, fearing defeat already.

Blinky reached out hopelessly. “We've failed!”

Strickler roared with glee. “Nothing can stop his return!”

Draal wasn't having it. He threw his ex into a dark corner and charged at the bridge. He clambered up the side. He wrapped his fingers around the medallion. Nomura looked on fearfully. Navigating around flying debris, she scaled the column and leapt onto Draal’s crown of horns. The force of the amulet’s magic threw her back, and the vortex pulled her forward and consumed her, screaming.  

Distracted by the risk in front of him, Strickler didn't notice Claire wrestle out of his grip. She pulled him around and pinned him to the bridge while she called to her ally. “No! Let go, Draal! Let go!”

Bular too became anxious. “No! No! Don't let him!” He broke away from AAARRRGGHH and crossed the battlefield, but as he did magic arched, followed by an explosion.

 

•••

 

Eventually the dust cleared enough for some visibility. Claire rubbed at her head and looked around at the destruction. From atop a pile of rubble she saw shards of a geode sticking up. “Draal! No!” She clambered to her feet and tripped repeatedly in her hurry to get to her fallen comrade. “No, Draal…” she covered her mouth with a hand, the other reaching out to him, unsure what to do to fix the disaster before her. A stone arm unfurled and crumbled, revealing the amulet. Reluctantly she took it.

“I'd hand you the amulet, but…” he groaned.

“You're alive!” A snarl from behind them interrupted their moment of relief.

Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! approached with Toby and Darci. “Master Claire, we must leave at once!”

“Help me, AAARRRGGHH!!!” Claire desperately pulled on Draal to get him to his feet.

Bular emerged from the rubble, searching desperately. “Father!”

Jim finished clearing the broken boards from on top of the grate to the sewer and pulled it aside.

Claire wilted at the prospect. “You've got to be kidding me.”

Toby too looked dismayed. “No way! I'm not gonna jump in the sewer! There's gotta be a chicken surprise down there!”

“Maybe two,” Darci agreed.

Bular flashed his blades, clearly convinced by now that his father didn't make it and ready to exact vengeance.

“Bon appétit!”

“With expediency, compatriots!”

Draal dropped in, followed by AAARRRGGHH, then the humans and Blinky.

“Ladies first,” Jim offered a hand to Claire before diving after her.

Bular called after their splashes. “Cowards! Come face your end!” He himself dove after them.

 

•••

 

AAARRRGGHH, being the heaviest, simply needed to brace against the current and gravity would anchor him. He reached for Blinky with one hand and grabbed hold of Draal with the other. As his wingman drifted by, he snagged the bike-tire- straps to keep Toby from going downstream.

Toby grabbed a hold of Darci's hands, but as Jim and Claire drifted past, they were missed. Jim felt his cloak tug as Blinky tried to grip it, but it wasn't enough, and instead it increased the distance between himself and Claire. They reached for each other as they tumbled in the current, but Bular caught up and swat at Jim. Claire was caught by the force of the water and was pressed against a grate. Bular kicked off of Jim to propel himself toward the Trollhunter, but Jim grabbed hold of the straps of Bular's sheath and was dragged along with the other two.

They tumbled in the water, and being more nimble Jim and Claire swam ahead. They breached the surface and reached for each other's hands. Claire tried to pull Jim up, but the current seemed to be pulling him down. He shook his head at her. “No, Jim-" He wrestled his hands free from her and to her horror _exhaled_ before sinking below the surface. “Jim!” She splashed around and lost sight of him. She was approaching the bridge to the canal. She took the opportunity and clambered up out of the water.

Bular beat her there. “Yet another Trollhunter killed under the same bridge.”

Claire rushed through the incantation. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” It clinked together just as Bular landed a kick. The force sent her flying into a support beam, and she barely managed her toes on the ledge of the structure so as not to drop into the water. She dashed along the beam through the sun. She still didn't see Jim, but she may have been distracted by searching for somewhere to escape Bular.  

“No more running, little girl. Daylight is fading.”

“Is that what you think?” She summoned her weapon, glowing streaks of blue gathered into metal. The energy of her weapon seemed to surge through her being and renew her resolve. She smirked, relishing that her enemy winced against the pain of light while it radiated. They charged each other. She was quick enough to brace against each of his two blades, but he was strong and could sense her limits. He brought a blade down harder, too hard, and she punished him by running up it and over him, dragging her blade down his back. He roared and freed his own from where he lodged it, but by the time he turned, he'd lost sight of her.

Claire dangled beneath the bridge, listening for an opening.

“You want to know where the baby is? I can give him back to you.” She listened for Bular's voice for an indicator of his location, trying to time when she could launch herself back up and charge him. She did so, bracing Daylight in her gauntlets as she leapt into the air to strike. He turned and intercepted her, and held her dangling by the arm. He swiped with his blade, but she curled up above it and summoned Daylight to her free hand and cut at the arm that restrained her. She made a leap for the sunlight but was yanked in midair and thrown against a support beam.

“The amulet should have never chosen a human.” With each syllable he stepped closer, his heavy steps causing the structure to tremble. “You're too soft. Easy to kill.” He tapped her against the beam with a claw, and under the bulk of her armor she felt her lungs construct. The faraway voices of her friends found her as the light started to fade. “Just in time to see their Trollhunter slain.”

Though her vision began to grow fuzzy, it occurred to her that in his rage, his claws dug into the beam surrounding her body, that it was her armor being used against her to suffocate her. She let the energy of the amulet dissipate, and like a fluid slipped through his claws. The only reaction he had time for was to widen his eyes with surprise. With the single breath she regained her clarity, donned the magical armor once more, and focused the light within her into her palms. Nothing too fancy, not even a tangible blade- simply raw daylight gathered together from her hands and pierced through the troll’s abdomen. It permeated his core, the surge of power roaring. She pivoted him around with her weapon until he reached the ledge. He didn't have the strength to maintain his footing, and he fell through the beams of sunlight and sank into the canal, to the very place where the amulet had first called out to her.

She exhaled. The deed was done.

 

•••

 

Rubble shifted around, the air thickest in the glow of sunlight that beamed faintly through the rain clouds. Strickler forced himself to his feet, then looked around, regarding the crumbled stone that used to be the bridge.

 

•••

 

Jim reached the bridge before the others. He helped Claire climb up to the road by using his cloak as a rope. Once her feet touched the sidewalk, he wrapped his arms around her. “You're okay,” was all he could manage.

Shortly after, the rest of the party called out as they approached.

“You did it,” Darci exclaimed.

“Master Claire!”

“Fleshbag!” Draal pumped his only fist into the air.

“Claire!” AAARRRGGHH bellowed.

Blinky, for the first time since Claire met him, stated, “I can't find the words.”

“Everyone's alive!” Toby grappled his two human friends and best friend.

Darci cheered. “Victory hug! Because we're fabulous!”

“Happy!” AAARRRGGHH!!! joined in on the victory hug.

Claire winced. “I was almost squeezed to death,” she reminded them. Eventually they all withdrew.

“I can't believe it. You killed Bular, the son of Gunmar!” Toby braced himself against the rail, processing the massive accomplishment Claire had been tasked with shortly before the time they'd biked home together.

Draal sighed heavily and rest his hand on Claire’s shoulder. “My father has been avenged. Thank you, Trollhunter.”

Darci checked her phone. “Hey… we've only got a few minutes left before the play starts!”

"Oh, the play!" Claire pulled at her hair, imagining her parents reaction if she didn't make it.

“Hurry, Master Claire! Leave Killahead to us, we'll-”

The sounds of sizzling and snarling erupted as a stony phantom rose from the ledge. Bular's skin hissed as it turned to dead stone once more in the meek rays of the setting sun, but still it reached for Toby, who was caught off guard and too surprised to scramble away. Jim instinctively threw a knife, but the monster ignored the blade that penetrated its hide before the surface turned to stone. Bular's eyes turned from red and yellow to solid spectral blue, and he raised a claw to bring down on the fleshbag. It was stopped short of its mark by AAARRRGGHH!!! His own rage turned his eyes to solid jet and in his fist he grappled Bular's. He roared like an earthquake, and the grooves in his skin glowed radioactive. He drove his other first through Bular, and swung with his whole body, so Bular was reduced to rubble.

AAARRRGGHH panted away the anger, drifting back to lucidity, with clear green eyes and the glow of his markings gone. Toby looked up to him in total shock. “AAARRRGGHH!!!, you're oath…”

“Your life more important,” he insisted. “Not pet. Wingman.” He held out a fist in camaraderie to Toby.

“Ditto, buddy.” Toby blinked away tears and bumped fists with the troll, and then hugged the trolls fist, which was as big around as he was. Darci cooed over the sentiment.

“Master Claire, the show must go on. We will take care of Killahead, fear not.”

Darci brooded as she began to peel off the wet football gear. “I'm afraid the play’s gonna suck. Steve has missed a week of rehearsal. He probably didn't practice his lines in the hospital."  
Claire grimaced. Jim lit up. "...I memorized the lines."  
"We don't have a makeup artist that good."  
"We don't need one. I have an idea on how to shape shift, I just need someone to shape shift into and to stop by Strickler's office."  
"Why?"  
"He has something called a glamour mask, I read about them."  
Blinky perked up. "Indeed, I do recollect seeing several in the office." He elaborated on how it worked. “One must simply study the subject for over a minute, and once they don the mask, they will take the form of said subject.”  
"Wait, you can turn into anyone?" Darci went through her phone and searched for the social media page of a student from a rival school. "What about Lucas?"  She held it out for him to see the screen. Jim considered it and took her phone to search out videos of the student on his page.  
Claire’s determination was rekindled. “So here's the plan: Jim and I go to Strickler's office and get the mask. Darci, Toby, you two help Mary stall.”  
"My phone!" Darci was indignant.  
"I need this. I'll give it back later," Jim insisted.

 

•••

 

“Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear, so shows a snowy dove trooping with crows. Did my heart love till now? Forswear it sight. For I never saw true beauty till this night.”

Juliet stole a glance at the masked attendant across the stage from her, the audience lost in the glare of the stage lights. She searched for a familiar trait from the little bit his visor revealed-

-icy blue eyes that didn't turn from her own, a mask so reflective it appeared to be silver, a white silk gloved hand that slipped into her own black satin-

“This, by his voice, should be a Montague,” Tybalt interrupted. The masked Montague had green eyes once more, and a cheap costume mask over an invisible, enchanted one, but still his eyes lingered on hers.

 

•••

“All hail Claire the Bular slayer!” Bagdwella led the cheer and the trolls followed along, cheering their Trollhunter.

Draal flexed the digits of his new arm. Toby ran by and deposited a taco into it. “Taco for you, taco for you, taco for everyone!”

“These taste better than socks,” one observed.

“You were always my favorite fleshbag,” a troll gestured with his cup to Claire, who sat among her friends.

“Thanks, Gundrak,” she beamed.

Blinky rest a hand on her shoulder paternally. “Don't let it go to your head, Master Claire. You still have training to do, and the forge is unforgiving to those who are unafraid.”

“Don't forget midterms,” Darci reminded them.

“At least the play is over with,” she sighed.

Mary chuckled. “He doesn't seem to think so.” She pointed in the direction of the bar counter where the trolls gathered around a small human that wore glasses with tape on the brim and brandished a cardboard sword. “I saw no man use you at his pleasure,” the boy whined nasally. The audience rattled the establishment with their laughter. The boy reached for his face, and for a second a light flashed and he was replaced with a taller figure with horns, a mask in hand. In another flash a different boy with brown hair and bright blue eye laughed along with the trolls and reached for a mug. As he drank he noticed Claire watching and waved nervously. The trolls demanded an encore and he reached for his face again.

A Claire in Juliet costume was seated on the countertop and acted out a swoon. “She is late, she is lame-"

Real Claire in purple ensemble cupped her hands around her mouth. “That's not how it goes!”

“Lighten up, C bomb,” Mary chided. “It’s not like anyone could ever replace you as best actress.”

Claire exhaled at the word choice. Darci read her thoughts. “We'll get your brother back. Don't worry.”

“But Gunmar,” Mary worried aloud.

“We'll figure it out,” Claire assured. “We've managed so far, right?”


End file.
